#blood bag is an interesting episode

[annabelle--cane]

oh mate you absolutely deserve those ecology lectures martin gives you

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Zutara, romance novels, and the female gaze

Okay so I’ve been thinking about the female gaze a LOT so I checked out a subreddit about romance novels, despite never having read one. I came across this meme (which was initially a Tumblr post and then got posted to Instagram and then to Reddit and I’m now bringing back to Tumblr — Internet telephone, pls never change):

And…what is The Southern Raiders, if not a platonic grovel? Katara’s pain is central to the episode. It’s central to Zuko. Zuko asks Katara what he can do to make up for his betrayal; she demands the impossible. He reads between the lines, cockblocks her brother to get the necessary information, and then waits outside her door overnight (which he also did for Iroh, the one person we know for sure he loves). He basically makes himself a receptacle for her rage, and he holds space for her by coming with her on her revenge quest and carrying their bags and not saying a damn thing about what she should and should not do beyond like…asking her to rest. And obviously the grovel works! She forgives him and then they’re thick as thieves, bantering and fighting and saving each other’s lives, etc.

On a different note, I’ve been told that enemies to lovers is one of the biggest tropes in romance novels, similar to YA lit and fanfic. Here’s something else I found in the romance novel discourse:

And…yeah. In TSR, Katara really does show Zuko her worst self, because she doesn’t feel the need to perform for him. She doesn’t feel the need to perform moral perfection OR cold blooded vengeance. She bloodbends in front of him and he just goes with it. She doesn’t kill Yon Rha and he just goes with it. He doesn’t treat her any differently afterwards. Maybe they talk about it off screen, but I kind of like the idea that they don’t, because Katara doesn’t need to explain anything. And it’s so interesting, because some people in the ATLA fandom have a totally different read on TSR. They think Zuko was encouraging Katara to get revenge (by what, keeping his mouth shut?), and that Aang is the one who acts as her moral compass. I believe that either Bryan or Mike said in the DVD commentary that Aang is the angel on her shoulder the entire time. And this interpretation does make sense if you see it from the male gaze, where Katara as an object of affection is acting in an angry, irrational, threatening way. But if you see it from the female gaze, you recognize that actually it’s probably the most emotionally taxing experience Katara has to go through, and she doesn’t owe it to be nice or perfect to anybody. Katara’s formative trauma literally comes to a head, and she has to make a decision — no, a discovery — about who she is in relation to the tragedy that defines her life and even her identity (as a waterbender, as a parentified child who becomes the mom friend, as a genocide victim), and she’s accompanied by someone who trusts her judgement and validates her feelings.

I’m not saying TSR is explicitly romantically coded, but when it conforms so well to romance novel tropes…is it any wonder that so many people thought “yes this is her man?” And then he takes lightning in the heart for her and reaches for her when he’s literally dying, I will never be normal about that either

[teamchasezwrites]

Taste

Word Count: 7,527

Characters: Roman Reigns/OC

Genre: Smut

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Shameless Smut

Summary: Roman works to undo what an ex boyfriend did.

Author's Note: Just shameless smut here guys. Enjoy!

The door to the hotel room closed with a soft click. The sound echoed in the silence of the room, encased in darkness except for the glow from the digital clock on the bedside table. The red illuminated numbers spoke of the late hour.

Roman grimaced. It was much later than he planned on getting back to the room. Usually his matches fell last on shows and in the event they didn’t, he championed on being the first match. That way he could leave immediately after. With it being the first episode of Raw on Netflix, there was no leaving early.

It almost felt like a movie premiere backstage full of both current and old roster talents. Every WWE and TKO big wigs as well as seemingly every single employee from corporate Netflix and then some. He must have shaken hands a hundred times with faceless, nameless people. It almost felt like a meet and greet with the way people were ushered to and from him.

At least with meet and greets, the people there saw him as something other than a face to make money. Their smiles were genuine. Their eyes filled with awe when they step up to him and not dollar signs.

It was part of the business though. He was just happy he wasn’t the one being paraded around as the company man anymore. He passed that torch last April when he finally lost his status as Undisputed Champion to Cody Rhodes.

Forced to stick around for the entire show, led to after parties that stretched on further than he liked. The mindless small talk, the fake laughter. Slimy smiles and blatant looks of interest. When he caught another hand brushing too low on his stomach with a tight hand, he knew it was time to leave before he created a scene.

Luckily Seth Rollins had enough at the same time and they both caught an Uber back to the hotel.

A smirk curved on his lips. If the Internet Wrestling Community seen him leaving with his former stablemate their heads would explode. He and Seth were supposed to be mortal enemies but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Close friends though not best friends as they once were back where they were new in WWE. Time did that to people and neither held any ill will toward the other. Same with Dean.

Roman let his bag fall from his shoulder. It hit the ground with a soft thud. He braced a hand on the wall and toed off his shoes before making his way into the bathroom. He showered at the arena after his match so he quickly went through his bedtime routine – going to the bathroom and brushing his teeth. He pulled the black band from his hair allowing it to fall just below his shoulders. He ran his fingers through the locks then leaned close to the mirror and inspected his face.

There was a minor gash on the left side of his forehead near the hairline. He wasn’t sure what caused the wound. It happened sometime when Solo threw him over the announce table and hit him with the monitor followed up by the steel steps to the head. Lucky it didn’t bust open. He was certain Netflix wasn’t looking for a blood bath on their first episode. Who knows; maybe they would have liked it. His bloody face would have driven clicks.

He ran a hand over his beard. Trimmed just that afternoon before his match. It was starting to turn a little grey at his chin; two thin streaks near the corners of his mouth. He struggled with letting it go and embracing the grey and getting it dyed to hold on to a youth that his body didn’t feel anymore.

He pulled the black t-shirt over his head and fisted it in his hand as his eyes wondered over his chest. No new bruises developed since he looked back at the arena. He had a nasty one on his shoulder blade and another on his bicep right above his elbow from a shot with the kendo stick. All in all, he came through relatively unscathed.

Heading back into the room, he stopped to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The t-shirt dropped to the floor near his bag. He dug his phone out of the pocket of his black joggers. The display lit up with notifications he hadn’t gotten to yet after his match. He walked around the side of the bed to where his charger hung off the table from the outlet built into the lamp. Before placing it face down, he turned on the ‘Do-not-Disturb’.

Facing the bed he stared at the mound buried underneath the blankets. His stance softened and his lips twitched with a smile. Her face hidden from view; her head tucked down with the blankets pulled to her chin. The mess of blonde curls fanned out over the dark comforter and pillow. He was shocked the heat wasn’t turned up to a stifling, unbreathable temperature despite being in Los Angeles. He’d never met anyone who was naturally cold in all temps as her.

Sophia Grace.

Their relationship was new. Not quite three months. A wrestler in her own right, Sophia wasn’t on his radar. By the time she made her debut on Raw in 2020, he was moved off the titular show to Smackdown the year before. She was billed as a princess – a snobbish, spoiled, socialite. Until The Judgement Day got ahold of her. With Rhea’s torture and torment, her character eventually turned dark and joined the faction.

That lasted in the months leading up to WrestleMania. Sophia – with the help of Becky Lynch who used her in her feud – finally turned on Rhea to break away from the cruelty inflicted upon her from the onset. Then she was gone from TV until the draft where she was moved to Smackdown. Back to the pink princess-like ring gear and blonde hair but skittish and low self-esteem.

When he returned to Smackdown after surprising everyone at Summer Slam, he noticed the new face and was drawn to the quiet girl with sharp eyes. Roman found himself lingering at the arenas not quick to leave anymore in order to watch her matches, backstage interviews, and in-ring promos. He’d never forget the look on her face when she’d come back through the curtain to Gorilla after facing off with Chelsea Green. He met her eyes while he was putting on his gloves and told her ‘nice job’. Her eyes had widened comically and her face blushed the prettiest color of red. She stuttered out a ‘thank you’ while ducking her head before quickly leaving.

The following week he sat down across from her in catering with nerves in his belly he hadn’t felt in ages. That opened the door to eventually exchanging numbers and texting a lot since he wasn’t at the arena every week. To a first kiss before Bad Blood when she slipped into his dressing room unseen before his match to wish him luck.

Roman pushed his joggers down his legs and stepped out of them as he pulled the blankets back. He slipped beneath the covers and turned onto his side, pulling Sophia back to his chest as he gathered her in his arms. She didn’t wake but shifted against him, pressing her ass into his crotch.

The delicious movement had him flexing his hips, pushing back against her. His cock twitched behind his black Nike briefs showing interest. His fingers caressed her hip displacing the threadbare t-shirt she normally wore to bed. Soon his fingers met warm skin and he pressed his face into her neck. It took him a few back and forth movements on her hip to realize he was touching skin the whole way. That it wasn’t broken up by cotton fabric.

He dropped his palm to her hip on a mission. Up her hip. Down her hip and around to slide over her ass checks. Sweet bare skin welcomed him everywhere. His groan was low at the realization she was naked beneath the t-shirt. He pressed his cock into the soft flesh of her ass once again as his hand dipped down to her stomach beneath the shirt.

His fingers trailed up her belly softly brushing against the underside of her breast free from the restraint of a bra. He nuzzled her neck as he continued to move his hand over her stomach. The tangled mess of hair kept him from pressing his lips against skin. Forced to remove his hand from her shirt, he swept his fingers across her neck, brushing the hair away. With her neck free, he dropped his face again, nuzzling the warm skin. The hint of perfume still on her skin.

Open mouthed kisses peppered her neck. He ducked his hand back beneath her shirt on a mission. His fingers brushed against that round globe, kneading the flesh. Her nipple was pulled in a taunt peak by the time his finger and thumb found it. He rolled the pebble between his digits, giving a small pinch.

Roman’s hand traveled south down her stomach until it encountered the soft curls framing her center. The dark brown a contrast to the blonde on her head. His fingers dipped between her legs, sifting between her folds until he encountered the hidden nub. His fingers teased, circling her clit before slipping his index finger further between her folds until he met her opening, already slick.

Sophia’s hips pressed back against his now hard cock. Her breathing shifted as he pulled her from sleep.

“Roman…” she breathed and parted her thighs allowing his fingers more room between her legs.

“If I knew you were waiting for me like this, I would have followed you right out the door,” Roman murmured against her neck. The newness of their relationship… his status in the company were all reasons they’ve kept their relationship under wraps. They made sure to stay away from each other all night though their eyes met plenty of times across the room. Neither wanted any rumors to start.

Roman didn’t have the heart to tell her both Jimmy and Jey suspected something was going on.

“I thought about sending you a naughty photo to hurry you along…” Sophia cocked her arm behind her to thread her fingers in Roman’s hair. Her leg lifted to cross over Roman’s opening herself up even more. A low moan released from her parted lips as his finger pressed into her. Her insides fluttered around him.

Roman shivered at the thought. “Naughty girl,” he whispered. His pulled his finger out, slick with her juices before pressing back in, groaning feeling her clenching around the digit. “Seeing you in that dress was more than enough motivation to get me back here.”

That red dress Sophia wore had no reason to be as sexy as it was. A simple floor length satin gown with a slit up her thigh. A halter top leaving her back bare with a small plunging neckline to tease the hint of cleavage. When he saw it on her, it took everything he had to force himself to leave the hotel room. He wanted to press kisses on the back of her neck to start, then move down her back to just above the curve of her ass.

Earlier, after the show, he had designs on falling to his knees in front of her where she was seated in a chair with her legs crossed talking to Natalya. That slit freeing her leg. He wanted to hold her foot in his hand and kissed along the delicate ankle bracelet with butterflies all around and up. Feel that smooth skin on his lips. His nose tracing up that perfectly toned calf, his breathing ghosting lightly over her skin, drawing goosebumps. Over the knee to her thigh on display with the daring slit.

“You liked that huh?” A ghost of a smile appeared on Sophia’s lips. Her hips moved with Roman’s finger. Still just the one pressing in and out of her.

“Liked it hell. I’m half tempted to make you put it back on right now,” he growled and nipped at her ear when she turned her head.

Sophia moaned his teeth sank into her lobe. She arched her back sending her ass into his crotch, feeling his hard cock. “That what you want to do? Put more clothes on me?” She rolled her hips in teasing movements. The near growl Roman released in her ear caused warmth to rush through her and liquid to pool at her center.

“What I want you to do, is come all over my fingers.” Roman withdrew his finger from her wet cunt. His finger slicked with her essence. Scooping up that liquid heat he ran up her slit to her clit – swollen with need. His fingers circled around the nub in teasing strokes. He smirked hearing her moan as her hips moved and worked to get his fingers where she wanted them. “What do you need?”

“Please…” Sophia begged. She gripped the blanket in a fist, using the anchor to send her ass deeper into the v of his thighs. She ground her ass into his cock wishing it was skin against skin.

“Please what?” Roman murmured against her neck, nosing along the skin. His hot breath fluttering over her skin. His fingers dipped through her folds, gathering up her wetness before he circled her entrance once, twice then sank two fingers home. His moan blended with hers as her muscles fluttered and clenched around him pulling him deeper inside that heated heaven.

It was hard to get as deep as he wanted from the angle, but he continued to pump in and out of her. He placed kisses on her neck then sucked on that spot directly behind her ear drawing out another moan. Her fingers twisted back in his hair, tangling in the strands to pull his head closer. He rocked against her. His cock trapped beneath his briefs. Hard and ready to replace his fingers.

But he had something else in mind.

Roman withdrew his fingers and shushed her moan of disapproval. “I’m not done with you yet, Baby Girl.”

Sophia let her self be turned over onto her back. Roman came into view for the first time. His face hidden in the darkness of the room. She lifted her hands to cup his cheeks and draw him down to her. Their lips collided. A mesh of teeth and tongues, hot breaths and soft moans. Lips parting, his tongue stroked hers. Long, velvety, hot strokes that caused warmth to coil deep in her belly. Wetness slicked her thighs and she pressed them together searching for friction to alleviate the tingling building.

“Fuck,” Roman tore his lips from hers, gasping for breath. He sat up and tossed a leg over her prone body. His pushed her shirt up her body, tugging at the material caught beneath her. “Lift up,” he whispered.

She lifted the top half of her body enough for Roman to push the shirt up where she gripped the hem and lifted it over her head. Before the article of clothing was even tossed away, Roman’s arms were around her back drawing her to him. She moaned as his hot mouth closed around a nipple. Her arms cradled his head, fingers tangling in his hair as she held him to her breast. Her head fell back, mouth parting in a moan as his tongue swirled around her nipple.

His name left her mouth like a prayer when his teeth bit down causing a zing of pleasure to shoot through her. His tongue offered soothing strokes against the stinging pain. His hands ran up and down her back in teasingly light touches. She let him lay her back on the bed as his arms slipped from behind her. Her back touched the cool sheets as Roman’s mouth switched breasts. His tongue whirling around her nipple before drawing it into his mouth.

As he flicked his tongue over her nipple, his hand palmed her free breast. His finger kneading into the soft mound. He rolled her taunt nipple between his thumb and forefinger, drawing moans from Sophia. Her hips rolled up into him catching air as he held his weight off her. He released her nipple from his mouth, blowing softly over the moistened tip. Sophia shivered beneath him. He placed an opened mouth kiss between her breasts.

Sophia tightened her fingers in his hair to bring his mouth back to hers. Their lips met and she wasted no time licking into his mouth. Moans of pleasure were swallowed. Her tongue stroked and twirled with his as they feasted on each other. Hot and wet they dueled neither relinquishing dominance.

Roman broke the kiss, his body humming with pleasure. He trailed his lips down her cheek to her neck. He smiled against her skin as she arched her neck to him. He placed opened mouth kisses to the skin, leaving behind moisture to dry in the air. He nipped at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, drawing a hiss from Sophia.

As he moved lower, her hands brushed over his arms, down to his elbows and back up. They dipped beneath his arms to his back where her fingers dug into those hard muscles as he latched onto her nipple again. The smell of her arousal hung in the air. Her pussy clenched frantically, desperately begging to be filled. For his thick cock to sink in to her, stretching her in a delicious manner.

“Roman…” she whispered her hips rolling into the air. Her fingers trailed down his back, teasing at the waist band of his underwear. Those tight Nike briefs fit him like a second skin. Hugging the swell of his ass and encasing his large thighs. They left little to the imagination. Showing the outline of his cock. More than once she caught herself licking her lips as he walked around their hotel room wearing nothing else. A few times she actually dropped to her knees in front of him to mouth him through the fabric.

Her hands were unable to grasp his ass where she wanted to use the leverage to press him down on her. “I need you…” Her voice pleading in hopes to entice him to give in.

“Soon,” Roman murmured against her skin as he continued moving down her body. He placed kisses and tiny nips to the skin on her belly. The skin warm and flushed. His intentions clear the lower he got. His tongue dipped into her belly button causing a soft moaning chuckle from her lips. He smiled at the sound. His tongue traced the small butterfly tattoo on her hip. Tracing the lines much like he did the first time he’d seen the delicate tattoo, hidden from the masses. A little secret shared between them.

As he moved lower, her hands gripped in his hair. Painfully as she refused to let his head go lower. He sighed, his gut sinking as once again his plans of burying his face in her sweet smelling pussy was thwarted. “Soph…” he pleaded, tilting his head up to look at her. “Let me eat you…”

Roman couldn’t believe the words even had to be spoken. Never had he ever had any issue with not being able to eat a woman out. The one night stands always sang his praises with his oral activities. All of his girlfriends practically begged him to get between their legs. There was nothing he loved more than shuffling down the bed, parting soft thighs, and burying his tongue deep between swollen, wet folds. Teasing the clit, drawing it between his lips with little sucks. Long licks between the folds from entrance to clit. Burying his tongue so deep inside, his nose pressed against their clit. Feeding off her orgasm as he lapped up every bit she had to offer him.

That was second to laying on the bed and pulling a woman down on his face – her thighs on either side of his head as she gripped the headboard. Her sinking down on him, stealing his breath. Her hips inundating on his face as she rocked against the feeling of his tongue buried up in her. His arms wrapped around her thighs holding her to his face not allowing her to get away even as his lungs burned and started to burst from lack of air.

But she wouldn’t let him. Ever since their first time back in early November after he returned from Crown Jewel in Saudi Arabia, he was unable to get her to let him bury his tongue inside her. His fingers could bring her powerful orgasms that had her screaming out his name. He could send his dick home with one single hard thrust. Anytime his mouth got close to the forbidden fruit between her thighs, she’d redirect his advances.

He tried not to take it personally. It was possible Sophia didn’t like oral sex. That would have been easier to believe if she hadn’t dropped to her knees in a shared shower swallowing him whole. Allowing his fingers to tangle in her wet hair guiding her movements on his cock until he was exploding in her mouth. If she hadn’t nudged him out of an angry frustration in his living room by nuzzling her face into his clothed crotch, mouthing at his cock until he was moaning in tiny gasps, his head tossed back against the cushion when she finally drew his joggers down and taken him inside the warmth of her mouth.

Roman couldn’t see the look on her face in the darkness of the room. Her head was a mix of shadows and he watched as she turned it to the side hiding from him. A feeling a dread settled into his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was push her into something she didn’t like. If he never got his lips on her pussy so be it. He wasn’t ready to give this woman up.

He lifted himself from her body and crawled back up the bed to lay by her side. He worked his arm beneath her and rolled her into his side. Tucking her head on his shoulder he kissed her forehead as he breathed deeply in hopes of calming his body down. His cock pulsed still trapped beneath his briefs. Hard almost to the point of painful. Begging to be freed. Begging to slip between her thighs.

“Roman?” Sophia’s questioning voice echoed in the silence of the room. Her brows drawn down in confusion at him putting the breaks on their coupling. Her hand moved across his chest, her fingers dancing over the warm smooth skin.

“It’s okay Soph,” Roman cupped her hand and brought it to his lips to press a kiss on her knuckles. He rested their entwined hands back on his chest, blowing out a breath as he stared up at the ceiling.

“No,” Sophia pushed into a sitting position. Goosebumps broke out over her skin against the cool air in the room and loss of Roman’s body heat. Her own body heat cooling with Roman pulling away. “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?” She waited for his answer, a lump rising in her throat the longer he stayed silent. The thought of their relationship teetering on the brink of a crack had tears building in the corner of her eyes. “Roman…”

The uncertainty in Sophia’s tone had Roman coming to a seated position. Placing his weight on an outstretch arm behind her, he cupped her chin. His fingers moving lightly over the skin as he brushed her hair from her face. He lowered his head and softly kissed her lips. His tongue licked a tender stripe across her bottom lip. When her lips parted on a sigh to let him in, he met her tongue with long, gentle strokes as he lazily explored, stroking the embers of the dying heat between them.

“Roman,” Sophia whispered again when the kiss broke as slowly as it started. “Please tell me what’s wrong…”

“I need to know something,” Roman started. His mind worked furiously to put the words he wanted to say in the correct order and with the correct meaning. He didn’t want to come off as smarmy douche who was only looking for a way to push her into a position she doesn’t want to be in. “Since we’ve been together…and I mean intimately…every time I get close to going down on you, you push my head away. You offer up very persuasive distractions that I usually don’t realize I’ve fallen for until we’re both on the verge of falling asleep that you’ve once again derailed my intentions. I just want to know why you won’t let me eat you out. I’ve been dying to get my mouth on that pussy Soph…”

Sophia’s eyes widened momentarily at Roman’s unexpected words before they glazed over. Her skin flushed warm. Her body tingled at the raunchiness. Heat coiled deep in her belly. Wetness gathered at her center. “Roman…” she moaned softly. Her body warmed by his words.

“Just tell me. If you don’t like it, that’s okay. I won’t push…”

Sophia dropped her chin to chest. This time the flush on her cheeks came from embarrassment. She’d known this would eventually come up. After all, she’d given him a blow job plenty of times. Had explored his body with her hands and lips equally. Yet she never let him do the same. Always thwarting his advances when he neared her center. “I…it’s my ex…He didn’t like it.”

“Well he’s obviously a douche,” Roman said matter-of-factly. He couldn’t imagine not liking it. It’s like a powerful drug, loving a pussy with your tongue. The ability to bring pleasure with the flick of a tongue. Bringing her so close to the edge and backing off with soft lazy strokes. Kissing her thighs, nipping at the creases, watching as she gets slicker. Licking through her arousal and the heady scent that fills his nostrils, completely consuming him.

“But what does that have to do with me?” Roman’s voice was rough. Just imagining the act had his cock coming back to life. It was hard and heavy in his briefs.

“He... he didn’t like how I tasted and smelled…” Sophia wished the floor would open up and swallow her. The only reason she was even able to get through the conversation was the fact they were shroud in darkness. “He also had a beard and would… get angry because it… my smell would get c-caught in it. He’d have to shower immediately and even then… he’d complain about still being able to smell it and I…I even went to the doctor’s thinking something was wrong with me, but everything came back clean. So I just…” she shrugged, at a loss for words. “You have a beard. And I would never ask for you to shave… or even assume I had the right. I didn’t want to go through that again. So I just tried to let you think I didn’t like it, hoping you would stop trying…”

Roman was surprised the bed wasn’t vibrating from the uncontrolled anger currently rolling through his body. “Your ex was a fucking douche.”

Laughter sputtered from Sophia at Roman’s words. “I can agree to that.”

“Do you like it?”

“Like what?” Sophia’s eyes narrowed in confusion. She wasn’t sure what Roman was talking about.

“Do you like it when a man buries his face between your legs like he’s dying for a drink and your sweet nectar is the only thing available?” Roman’s voice was low, nearly a growl. He was done letting that asshole stop her from experiencing immense pleasure. He smirked hearing her breath catch in the quietness of the room. “Because Sweetheart that’s what I feel like… dying to get my lips on your pretty pussy.” He leaned forward his breath dancing over her ear. He trailed his fingers over her collarbone and down her arm. Light, fluttering caresses. “Dying to split you with my tongue as I lap up your juices like a starving man. I want your taste to explode in my mouth. I want to be completely consumed by your scent.”

“Roman…” she gasped her body trembling with need. Her cunt slick with arousal.

“Let me go down on you,” he whispered hotly. His hand palmed the back of her neck, his fingers tangling with her hair as he laid her down. “Let me get my beard between your thighs. Let me lick that pussy from slit to clit. Let me tease your clit with my tongue. Let me feel your come on my tongue. Coat my beard in your pussy juice. I wanna be able to catch a hint of your sweet perfume tomorrow on the plane ride home making me hard as a rock… Let me baby…”

He trailed a hand down her body and through her curls. He moaned as he fingers encountered her drenched pussy. “Oh Baby, you’re so wet for me…” He slid two fingers through the wetness to her hole where he slowly pressed inside. Her body once again greedily accepting him. Each clench of her inner walls pulling him deeper into her heat.

“Roman… please…” Sophia moaned rocking her hips into his hand. His palm sitting just right over her clit. The friction releasing shockwaves, zapping down her legs moving against the sheet in jerking motions in search of pleasure.

“Please what Baby?” He whispered in her ear, trailing his nose over her cheek as his fingers rocked in and out of her. His lips hovered above hers. Both mouths parted, breathes mixing. His hair falling down around his face hanging almost like curtains. He watched her eyes clench shut and he wished for a light so he could watch the emotions shooting through them.

“Roman…”

“Tell me…”

Sophia gasped as Roman’s fingers curled forward pressing against that rigid piece of flesh hidden on her front wall. Swollen with need. She released the bedsheet from her fisted hand and fisted the back of Roman’s head. She yanked him down to her lips. Taking advantage of the way his lips parted, her tongue shot forwards, twisting and twirling with his. Seeking and exploring every inch. “Put your mouth on me,” she said against his lips. Her breath coming in hot gasps as she nipped his bottom lip. “I need it…God please…” She tossed her head back. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Her impending orgasm rising rapidly from deep within.

Roman’s smile was nearly predatory at her words. His eyes darkened in desire. His cock pulsed as come beaded on the tip soaking into his briefs. Saliva settled on his tongue at the impending feast about to come his way. “Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled his fingers, slick with her arousal, from her body.

There was no time for soft kisses and teasing nips as Roman made his way down her body. Next time he swore he would give her the royal treatment of working his way down her body before he reached her center. But he was too far gone. Almost feral like. He needed his face between her thighs immediately.

“Turn around, let me suck you,” Sophia whispered as Roman settled between her thighs.

“Oh no Baby Girl,” he placed a kiss on the inside of either of her thighs. He called himself names in his head for once again bypassing the teasing strokes of his beard against those sensitive patches of skin. ‘Next time,’ he told himself firmly. Next time when he started kissing down her neck he wouldn’t stop until she was trembling in his arms, gasping for breath with her taste on his tongue and her slickness covering his beard. “This is all about you.”

Then he dove in.

He nearly wept in pleasure the moment his tongue met those swollen puffy lips, slicked with her heady, musky scent. He did release a low grown as his tongue swiped through her folds, picking up her tangy essence. It exploded on his tongue and he was hooked. He pressed his face deeper into her. His nose brushing against that swollen nub hiding up at the top of her folds. Right now, he had other plans. Sticking his tongue out, he speared her hot center. His tongue sinking into her heat. Like an explorer mining for minerals, he lapped and teased every inch of her heat, extracting that gooey goodness.

Sophia’s eyes slammed shut as a loud moan filled the room. Hers. Roman’s mouth was otherwise occupied. She’d blush at the thought if she could pull her faculties together. Her brain went offline the moment he buried his tongue deep inside her sex. Synapsis firing and misfiring sending short little zingers to every hidden recess of her body. Her body arched up, her back bowing off the bed, sending her hips further into his mouth. Her mouth open in a soundless scream as he licked and slurped at her pussy.

“Oh God Roman…” Sophia panted. The fingers of her right hand tangled in his hair in a stinging grip. She held him to her center as her hips rocked into his tongue. That wicked little muscle swirling and twirling in tantalizing motions up and down her swollen lips. Pressing deep into her slit like a starving man receiving his final meal and her body responded. Releasing that molten liquid on his tongue in an effort to satisfy.

Roman moaned as the liquid gushed from Sophia coating his beard. He drank everything she had to offer. He wrapped his arms under and around her thighs. His hands pressing down on either side of her hips to quell some of the movements. He couldn’t wait until he could get her to sit on his face with the way her hips swirled and rocked. Riding his face the same way she rode his cock, except it would be his tongue deep inside her body with her come saturating his beard.

He licked up her folds, gathering up every bit of her essence her body offered him. His tongue danced around her clit. He gave the nub a nudge with his tongue. The reaction was instantaneous of her thighs closed around her head and her hips bucked into his face. Her moan was low and he heard the swish of movement across fabric. He raised his eyes and once again wished for light. He could make out her head tossed back. Her breasts two soft mounds jutting up from her chest. Each nipple pulled into stiff peaks. Her arm was cocked next to her head, gripping the pillow in a death grip.

He was consumed by her. Every single one of his senses was her. The taste of her on his tongue and in his mouth. Her intoxicating scent burying itself deep within. The feel of her soft skin beneath his hands and her rocking against his face. Her breathy moans and soft gasps filling his ears. The sight of her body in the throes of passion, muscles rigid as the tension built up within. It would keep building and building until it finally snapped and that’s what he wanted. That tension to snap to send her spinning on clouds of ecstasy. Where her body would ride on a wave of euphoria until it crested sending her crashing back down where he could catch her with soft kisses and languid strokes of his hands to quell her quivering body.

“Give it to me,” Roman growled. His strokes turned stark and true. On a mission to bring her into sweet ecstasy. To rid her mind of the horrid ex who made her feel like she couldn’t enjoy something her body so clearly loved. “Give it to me Soph… I want it all.”

“Roman…” She moaned deep and long, her head tossed back. The tendons in her next stretched taunt. The heat in her belly deepened with every lick and nip of Roman’s mouth. His tongue dipped into her quivering hole before swiping back up through the folds slick with not only his spit but her fluids. His hardened tongue licked over her clit, swollen and pulsing. A direct line to the tension in her belly that kept winding and winding.

The assault on her clit continued and her hips jerked wildly. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to get away from the stimulation or press closer. Roman held her hips to the bed in a tight grip. His fingers pressing firmly into her skin she was sure he’d leave bruising behind. The thought caused her to gush. The warm spurt of liquid rolling down from her hole to the bedsheets beneath her. She clenched at the emptiness inside of her. She wished he’d send his cock home with one snap of his hips. She whined at the thought just as Roman’s lips closed around her clit and sucked.

The tension snapped free and she shouted out his name as her body jerked. Her hips rocked wildly on his face as her thighs clamped shut, trapping Roman in place. Her pussy convulsed releasing a gush of liquid that was quickly lapped up by a warm tongue. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she gasped for breath as the tension slowly released from her body. She melted back onto the sheets. Almost in a dreamy, drowsy-like state. After shocks caused minor tremors. Little twitches on her feet and hands.

“Fuck,” Roman groaned when he finally pulled his head away from Sophia’s pussy after he finished drinking what her body had to offer him. Quivering through the intense orgasm. He placed soft kisses on the insides of her thighs and on top of her mound. He just found his new favorite past time. Sophia would be having a hard time keeping him away from her pussy going forward. He couldn’t get enough. He ran a hand over his mouth and down his beard in a chin cupping motion. The soft hairs on his chin were drenched. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Her intoxicated scent filled his nostrils from where it lingered on his moustache. His whole body shivered before heading back at his cock. Weeping and painfully hard.

He pushed himself from the bed to push his briefs down. They fell to the floor forgotten. He took his cock in his hand and groaned at the feeling. His member was hot and hard in his hand and he bit his bottom lip in an effort to keep from coming. From spilling his seed all over his hand and the floor.

“Roman come here…”

His eyes opened at the soft whisper. He could see Sophia leaning up on an elbow with one arm stretched out to him, beckoning him. Like a leash around his neck, he couldn’t refuse. Roman kneeled on the bed and crawled over her body as she lay back. Her thighs parting on either side of his – welcoming him.

“I’m not going to last long,” he whispered, his body trembling with built up desire.

“I don’t care,” Sophia stated as she raised her hands to cup his bearded cheeks. Her thumbs ran over his lips. Meeting in the middle then fanning back toward her index fingers. The pads moving over those soft lips moistened with the telltale sign of her orgasm. She almost felt embarrassed by the fact, but instead she felt embolden. Lifting her neck she met those lips with hers.

His lips parted in offering as she licked along his bottom lip giving a soft moan as she chased her taste into his mouth. Her pussy filled with slick once again, her body trembling with need. “I need you in me…”

Roman reached down between them, gripping his cock in his hand. He ran the head through her folds causing her to moan from his heated arousal. He placed his head at her open and lifted his head, to stare down at her.

“I don’t need soft.”

With a groan Roman’s hips snapped forward sending his cock in to the hilt with one thrust. Their moans blended together as his hips rest against her. Her pussy stretched around him. His jaw clenched as he breathed heavily in an effort to stop himself from coming immediately. Her legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him to sink further and he tossed his head back.

“Fuck me Roman,” Sophia whispered, squeezing her thighs around his waist. “I need you.”

Roman pulled out slowly his cock covered in her slick creamy juices. He thrust back in quickly and set a torrid pace. His biceps were bulging, rippling corded muscles with throbbing veins holding his weight. His ass clenched with each snap of his hips. His length sliding in and out of her pussy, clutching his cock so tightly each time in an effort to keep him deep inside. The fluttering of her muscles around him nearly made him cross eyed.

He slammed in to her with a bruising force but her legs only tightened around his waist. Her fingers clutched at his biceps. Her nails nearly piercing the skin leaving behind almond shaped divots. Roman’s face contorted in pleasure. A sheen of moisture layered his body. He lifted his right hand from the bed threading it under Sophia down to her back where he pressed up, changing the angle of his thrusts.

Sophia screamed as an orgasm ripped through her like a wave tossing a ship at sea. Her pussy clenched down hard on his cock and her body spasmed.

Roman’s hips snapped forward once twice more before he slammed home a third time. A roar was ripped from the deep trenches of his soul as his orgasm crashed over him. His vision whited out. His cock pulsed and pulsed as his come shot out coating the inside of Sophia’s pussy. He moaned against the spasms of her pussy around his cock as she suffered through her own orgasmic pleasure.

Then the tension was gone as quick as it arrived. Roman slipped from her body falling onto the bed beside her. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Little tremors still coursed through his body. He was covered in sweat. Heat radiated off his body and he wanted to turn the AC in the room down to arctic temps. His hair clung to his neck in a bothersome manner. He couldn’t move. His muscles no longer worked. His brain felt like it was offline and it needed time to reboot.

The bed shifted and he blinked his eyes opened to see Sophia staring down at him. It took all the strength he could muster to thread his fingers through her hair and pull her down to rest her head on his shoulder.

Silence filled the room as they laid pressed against each other. Their heart rates slowly returning to normal. His fingers combed through her hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands gliding between his fingers.

“So I was thinking…”

“How are you thinking already?” Roman murmured his eyes closed just enjoying the feel of her next to him.

A cocky grin grew on Sophia’s face. She turned her head and pressed a kiss to Roman’s slick skin. “We’re both supposed to check out of here tomorrow… maybe we check in to somewhere else a little more private before I need to fly to Portland Friday morning.” She was scheduled to appear on Smackdown that Friday. Roman however wasn’t scheduled to appear on the show until the end of the month right before Royal Rumble.

“What do you propose we do to entertain ourselves for the next three days?” Roman smiled at the idea. He was flying back to Tampa the next day while Sophia was choosing to hang out in LA for the next few days instead of flying across country to turn around and fly back across it a few days later.

“I have a few ideas… the first one being to sit on your face.” Sophia shrieked when he moved with a quickness she didn’t know he had at the moment. She found herself under him with his body pressing hers into the mattress.

“Sit on my face huh?” Roman leaned down and pressed a teasing kiss to her lips. He angled his head before pressing his lips to hers again. A sweet kiss with soft brushes of tongues against lips. Her arms wound around her neck anchoring her to him.

“You’ve unleashed a monster…” Her eyes widened feeling his hard cock pressing into her belly.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Roman smirked as he rubbed his awakened cock along the curve of her hip. “Sophia,” her name dripping from his lips like velvet as he once again pushed into her drawing a moan.

Sophia hummed in response as lightning flooded her core.

“Book that fucking hotel.”

[constellationguy]

Another Perspective

Episode one

“Text”: regular talking

‘Text’: regular thinking

“Text”: Saiki talking telepathically

‘Text’: Saiki thinking

ATTENTION! You might want to rewatch episode one of The Disastrous Life of Saiki K before reading.

Summary: Episode 1 in L/N Y/N’s perspective.

It was a very normal day for Y/N L/N, school felt like forever and the only thing that got them through the day was the promise of an after school nap, they were now walking home to take said nap. Y/N was actually in a good mood when walking home, the weather was nice and cool and they knew they had cold water waiting for them in the fridge, the neighborhood was quiet, the perfect conditions for a nap.

They were in a great mood all the way up until they saw their neighbor sitting outside of his own house. Once they saw Mr. Saiki on his doorstep, they knew they weren’t going to have a really good afternoon. Y/N knew they should have greeted Mr. Saiki but ever since he and his wife started fighting it always felt so awkward to talk to either of them.

Y/N quietly walked past the Saiki residence to not catch Mr Saiki’s attention then quickly made it inside. Unfortunately the son of the Saiki family, Kusuo, also went to Y/N’s school so they knew he wasn’t to far behind them. As soon as they took their shoes off and put their school bag away they could hear their neighbors talking from outside the door and not to long after that the shouting started.

“Damn it. I just got home and the neighbors were already shouting.” All Y/N could do grumble and try not to focus on what their neighbors were saying, kinda hard when all they do nowadays was yell at each other. Y/N tried to push the thoughts of their neighbors to the back of their mind as they put on their headphones and started making dinner.

While making their dinner Y/N could barely hear their neighbors over their music, which sadly meant they were still shouting. But as soon as they sat down to eat the neighbors finally quieted and Y/N let out a sigh. ‘Finally quiet’ they thought. Y/N could finally relax and eat in peace. However as soon as they lifted up their fork to take another bite they heard loud glass shattering from next door.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m going to eat in my room.”

—————————————————————————

Today was the most boring day for 542 students of PK Academy, today was the day of orientation. It was tradition at PK Academy for the principal to make a speech for orientation day but as it always was, the speech was longwinded and boring.

Every single student had to stand in one large neat group while orientation droned on and on. ‘What I wouldn’t give to walk out right now’, the students thought collectively. Y/N thought the same until they saw movement a couple rows in front of them.

“Hey buddy,” it was just Nendo being Nendo, nothing to get too interested in Y/N thought before spacing out again to the voice of the principal. Not a minute later Y/N heard a thud that took them out of their thoughts.

“He passed out!” “Low blood sugar?”

“AAAAAA, what happened buddy are you alright?!” Nendo said as he started to shake the passed out kid.

‘This can’t be good’, thought Y/N. Since no one was really doing anything and was just watching Nendo make a fool of himself, Y/N got the attention of the closest teacher and pointed at Nendo punching whom they assumed was Takahashi.

“Nendo what do you think you’re doing?! Take him to the nurse” the random teacher said.

“Uh the nurse oh okay right!”, Nendo said sounding confused. “Hey Saiki, why don’t you go with the two of them, I don’t trust Nendo to find it.” After the teacher spoke, Y/N heard a little “damn it” from their neighbor Saiki. ‘Damn, I kinda wish I could also get out of this but keeping track of Nendo might be worse, sorry Kusuo’ thought Y/N. Not long after that Nendo put Takahashi’s arm over his shoulder and took him to the nurse’s office with Saiki following close behind.

After the three left, orientation continued like Takahashi passing out never happened. ‘And hell continues’ thought Y/N.

About ten minutes later Y/N heard an ambulance siren coming from the school’s entrance. ‘Oh shit! Takahashi must be in bad condition,’ Y/N thought worriedly. Not too long after that Y/N also heard a “You can beat this man!” from Nendo.

‘Hope they turn out okay,’ thought Y/N.

—————————————————————————

In room 2-3 Y/N sat quietly while observing their other classmates during break. People watching was what Y/N did when they didn’t have their headphones. Y/N wasn’t paying attention to any conversations in particular until someone in the back of the class said that a snake from the zoo was on the loose. Now that was an entertaining thing to talk about.

“Are you boys sure it escaped? An animal attack is just the sort of plan they’d come up with,” Kaido said with a superior tone, guess he was also eavesdropping.

“But fear not, I, the jet black wings, am never fooled by their evil deception. Someone must have set that snake free on purpose,”

‘Okay this is getting fun, I wish I had a snack right now. This feels like watching tv,’ Y/N thought while looking at the group of students no so suddenly.

“Hang on! You know the guy that did this Kaido?”

“Some wanna be super villain called the black wings”

“No I’m the jet back wings, the hero. The villain is a secret organization named Dark Reunion. And this escaped snake thing is the first step in their plot to sort man kind!”

“DARK REUNION!” a group of student shouted.

‘Okay this is the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in a while,” Y/N giggled.

“Who? Geez. Never heard of them.” The whole group said as they dispersed.

‘Damn, just when it was getting good,’ Y/N huffed at their entertainment coming to an end.

“Ah huh, once again the fate of the world has fallen into our super powered laps, eh Saiki?” Kaido said, still in his persona.

“Saiki, what’s your read? I don’t like this one bit. This snake which I’ve named “murder dragurom snake” is likely no ordinary snake!” “That’s quite the dramatic name,” Kusuo said quietly.

“It’s also likely that Dark Reunion genetically engineered murder dragurom sake, specifically kill people! We’re running out of time here Saiki. The world is counting on us to stop that slavering-

“Hey good news! They caught the snake!” Some random student shouted, again ruining Y/N’s entertainment found in Kaido.

“Well that’s a relief, where did they find it?

“At the school’s front gate, it was just kinda laying on the ground half dead.” Kaido perked up from his pouting state and then looked shocked while his inner monologue was clearly running.

“Kay why was it half dead?”

“Some first graders were whipping it around.”

“That’s one weak ass murder snake,” Kusuo said. ‘Okay now that’s funny,’ Y/N thought while trying not to laugh aloud.

“Sounds like we beat Dark Reunion this time.” “Be careful why you say! They’re an all powerful secret society. “Who knows what they’ll do to you when they sort man kind,” students said sarcastically and laughing.

“Heh, go ahead and laugh. This is the calm before the storm. Dark Reunion in coming, I tried to warn you all I swear.” The first half was in character and the second sounded as if he was gonna cry.

‘Damn that was harsh. Oh look, Kusuo must be getting up to comfort Kaido. What a good friend.” Thought Y/N.

“It’s like he’s in elementary school. One time he said there’s a monster in his arm. You guys it’s starting to take over my whole body!” The kids continued to mock. Then suddenly a snake fell out of the kid’s jacket arm. Then the class fell into chaos.

In the panic students were shouting and some students started to sit in their desks to get away from the snake on the floor. “What a bunch of dorks,” said Nendo not at all freaked out.

“Are your guys balls still attached?”

“Worry about yours!”

“Cause mine feel weird.”

“Well obviously they do! The snake’s on your crotch!”

“NENDO” the class shouted as Nendo seem to pass out while standing up then quickly falling to the floor dramatically.

“EVERYBODY GET DOWN, I’ll take care of this snake,” Kaido said confidently while getting in between the class and the snake.

“KAIDO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!l

“Alright, murder dragurom snake it’s time you face me, the jet black wings! Let’s go,” then Kaido make an anime esc pose.

“So we’re having a fake super hero face a real poisonous snake now?”

When the snake started to slither towards a girl, Kaido blocked the snakes path. “Take this! JUDGMENT NIGHT SON-” FLASH. The snake was being electrocuted!

“YAAAAA” the class erupted in celebration while Kaido looked confused then in awe of himself.

‘Holy shit. Are we sure this wasn’t filmed? How the hell did that happen!’ Y/N thought loudly.

And thus the great snake attack came to an end.

Unfortunately Kaido took this one off experience to heart and was rather arrogant until he was sent to the principal’s office.

—————————————————————————

Today Y/N was on a mission, to go grocery shopping! Normally this wouldn’t be such an adventure but today they got their allowance and wanted to spend it on a sweet treat as a reward for doing chores.

“Oh wow!” “Oh wow!” “Oh wow!” When Y/N heard the noise of countless people in shock, they knew Teruhashi was near by. They tried to ignore her presence because when she is near by things either go really smoothly or they spiral out of control, Y/N didn’t want to take that risk today.

But suddenly ignoring Teruhashi became extra difficult as she ran up to the man I front of Y/N, Kusuo Saiki. “Saiki, hi! I couldn’t help but notice you looked sad.” ‘Uh oh, this can’t be good. I’ll have to talk to her if she notices me. Oh dear, why’d I pick today to go out?’ Y/N thought while regretting ever leaving their bed.

Oddly enough, Kusuo just bowed slightly and continued walking, this irked Teruhashi so she continued to try and get a reaction out of Kusuo.

“Saki, silly, know it’s not polite to ignore a girl.” Teruhashi said as she looked walked in front of Kusuo. However Kusuo made less of a deal with it and continued walking.

‘Never mind, this is getting entertaining! I’m so glad she hasn’t noticed me, this made getting out of bed worth it. Why is Teruhashi doing this? Why is she so shocked? Whatever, I’m having fun now,’ thought Y/N a little smugly.

“Saiki don’t leave me alone!” ‘Kusuo dodged again, brutal!’ YN thought only feeling a little bad for Teruhashi. Kusuo kept walking ahead while Teruhashi was frozen in place, Y/N then had to stop too, not wanting to be seen by Teruhashi.

“Saiki, hi~” ‘And she’s back at it!’ Y/N thought excited with enthusiasm.

“Where are you going? Do you mind if I tag along with you? I promise it’ll be fun Saiki!” Teruhashi said while repeatedly trying to grab at Kusuo, he is still dodging though.

Through the crowd Y/N’s attention was drawn to Nendo, then they noticed that Saiki disappeared.

“Oh no! Where did Saiki go? What’s going on?!” Y/N was thinking the same thing, until they saw Saiki on the roof. ‘Oh damn. I didn’t know acknowledging someone was that deep.’ Y/N thought before quickly taking their eyes off Saiki, they didn’t want to draw attention to him being on the roof.

“Saiki!!” Teruhashi called out.

“Nendo?”

“Oh wow Teruhashi!”

“Do you know where Saiki went?”

‘Oh shit, gotta hide!’

“Uh buddy? Nope, I haven’t seen him.”

Teruhashi was spacing off as Nendo continued to talk, all the while she had a prominently blushed face. ‘Uh oh, I bet that’s gonna cause some problems,’ Y/N thought while walking away.

Y/N was snickering as they walked away until Kusuo teleported right in front of them.

“What are you laughing at?” Kusuo questioned, clearly annoyed.

“You.” Y/N answered while still chuckling.

“You could have done something to get her off me you know.”

“And what would be the fun in that?” Y/N continued to joke.

“You know just because we are childhood friends and neighbors doesn’t mean I won’t burn you alive?” Kusuo said walking beside Y/N.

“Ya, ya, don’t worry I’ll buy you a coffee jelly for your troubles, okay?” Y/N said more softly and careful than before.

“Okay,” Kusuo said quickly.

“Hey Kusuo, are we still on for movie night tomorrow?” Y/N asked while smiling at his reaction.

“As long as you bring those coffee brownies I love,” Kusuo said half joking.

“You got it. Well, I got some groceries to buy. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Y/N said, waving Saiki goodbye then walking off. Y/N’s now determined to make the best damn brownies of Kusuo’s life.

—————————————————————————

Next episode

[smilingangel582]

Hello hello... today I will be writing something I had really wanted to write since last week.

I started watching Arcane and even though I just finished season 1 I'm really at a loss at how great it was! It was too. Effing. Good!

Vi and Jinx are my favourites and nobody can change my mind!

Ps. CaitVi is something I'm expecting in the near future... hopefully they will get a little moment!

I noticed how Vi and Cait tickle fics are soo less! Time to change it!

For some reason, I want to see Lee!Vi cuz... she is sexy, hot, beautiful, cool, cute and everything! An all-around package!

Warning: Arcane season 1 spoilers, tickling, Vi x Caitlyn (a romantic ship), fluff, and other usual goodies I write.

Enjoy!

Weakness

Summary: Just Vi and Cait looking for Jinx before episode 9. They decided to rest up at an inn in the Undercity. Interesting discoveries were made when Cait decided to check up on Vi's old injury.

The Inn wasn't exactly luxurious for a Topsider like Caitlyn Kiramann. She felt the old dust from the mattress and refused to get on it unless she could lay a blanket. She knew she and Vi needed to rest before hunting down Silico and Jinx.

The door opens and Cait was gettinf up from the bed slowly, looking at Vi who entered.

"Alright, we could take turns in sleeping and-" Vi cuts off when she sees Cait lying on a cleaner blanket laid on the bed. Upon this scene, Vi's lips slightly wobbled to suppress an amused chuckle, "Wehell, I knew you couldn't stand the undercity's hospitality, cupcake... but to this extent?"

Cait rolls her eyes, but with a smile playing on her lips, "Laugh it up, Vi... you don't know what it's like to have a sudden change in the environment"

Sniffling another giggle, Vi nods, understanding her, "I get it actually, relax... I'm just messing with ya"

"Sure you do..." Cait scoffs sarcastically.

Vi takes off her coat, her arms flexing as she stretches them a little feeling the joints crack a little subtly. Cait was taken aback at how muscular her arms were. For a woman's they were slender, but they have ample muscles that had a diligent workout for years. Perhaps those years in the prison have kept her occupied.

Cait is seeing her more thoroughly.

The same faded white tank top had a slight smear of days old blood. Caitlyn recalls the stab wound Sevika had given Vi. Her mind shifts a little to that scene, glad that she traded her musket for the medicine.

"How's your wound?"

Vi now tossing her bag to the side to reach the bed, replies nonchalantly, "Non existent"

Cait hums, watching how Vi sits on the bed next to her, then falling down on her back with her arms crossed above her head tiredly.

Silence... Cait can see her abs beneath the shirt... the slight days old scar from that night...

"Cait, you're staring... what's up?" Vi asked, sighing as she closed her eyes, her guard slightly down.

"Oh, nothing, I just..." she trails off, admiring the sight of her.

Cait was astonished how easily she trusted her. She slowly reached out and touched the side of her stomach where she was stabbed, the hole where the shirt had when she was hit.

Vi's reflex kicks in, promptly, grabbing her wrist. Cait, unfazed, looks at her with a shrug, "I was just trying to see how it has healed... I wasn't gonna stab you there again, jeez..."

Vi sighs, loosening her grip now, "I know, but don't just start crazy shit like that, cupcake," she says seriously, "I have trust issues..."

Cait rolls her eyes, freeing her hand to poke Vi's side close to her ribs, in a chiding tone, "Stop calling me that..."

Vi flinches, almost recoiling. Cait frowns, noticing this, "Are you hurt?"

"N-no just surprised..." Vi clears her throat, now straightening up to a sitting position but was forced down again with Cait slightly understanding what happened, she straddles her now.

"Oh Vi..." The hint of mischeif in her voice made Vi's heart skip a beat, "are you ticklish?"

Dread trickled, and she gave an uneasy laugh, eyes shifting in an endearing manner that Cait loved, "Me? Ticklish? Oh, cupcake... you're playing with fire -aha! Hey!"

Instantly, Vi grabs both Cait's wrists when her fingers scribble both her sides, evoking a breif string of giggles from the usually smug girl. Of course, no deduction is required because Cait's grin said it all.

This might not end well for Vi.

"I think it's adorable" with that she launched her fingers to her sides.

"Doho not -q-quihihit thahat Cupcake!" Ticklish shocks sparked through Cait's fingertips. The sensation was not something she had never felt before, but it had been too long. Vander and Powder love to tease her with this weakness... lucky for her only Vander could take advantage of her with this while Powder, Mylo, and Cragger were not strong enough to catch her off guard.

But Cait? How is she so good, Vi thought, when she felt fingers instantly squeeze her waist, a spot she forgotten.

"Gahaha! W-Wahahahahait! H-haha, C-Cupc -aha Cait! Cahahait!" Vi bucked her hips harshly now, too bewildered by the mad sensation.

Cait laughs at this surprised at how strong Vi struggled as she barely could hold her down, knowing she was physically more stronger. But her movements were clumsy and barely had aim to stop her.

"This is hilarious..." Cait teased, her fingers light but merciless, "Undercity's top fighter taken down by a little tickling... I say I like you more"

"W-whahat?" Vi blushed first, and then Cait blushed, realising what she just blurted, she stutters, "W-Well, I mean -whoa!"

She managed to tip Cait backwards, easily flipping positions and pinning her down on the bed. Her hands on Cait'a shoulders and breath heavily over her face, now tired and flustered, "Ahahahalright! Yohohou hahahad your fuhuhun cupcahahake -nohohow stohohop ihihit!"

Despite her strength, she was still weakened and panting. Her arms trembling to keep someone immobilised.

Too bad, Cait thinks with a grin. She notices this and mercilessly goes for another attack to further weaken Vi. Keyword, mercilessly

"Oh, I won't let you off that easily, Vi," she managed to slip her hand down now, tickling her stomach beneath the top.

"Eek!" She toppled forward further on top of Cait, who caught her by the upperarms before their foreheads could collide, now both of them (especially Vi) surprised by that squeal which never imagined to hear. Cait couldn't help but laugh now.

"Oh my god, was that a squeal?" Her giggles also blending with Vi's.

"W-wahahas nohot -eek!" A poke to her stomach just above her naval, "S-seheheriously cuhuhut ihihit ohohout!" Vi squirmed and giggled occasionally, letting surprised squeals whenever Cait went for her worst spot. The laughter was so childish and light its hard to think she could make such sounds.

Cait smirks, not stopping as she managed to shove her to the side, now pinning her down again, barely needing an attempt to restrain her.

"Anything to say Vi, you're unusually quiet...?" Cait smugly continues the playful torture, often giving teasing little tickles to her naval and often shifting places to confuse her, "You're losing air... so it's about time you gave up"

Vi shakes her head, letting out loud cackles and giggles, tears streaming down her expressive face. She covered her middle and kicks her legs, but it was useless.

"Ok, time to go all out," Cait lifts her shirt, her eyes glinting menacingly, "Ready?"

"N-noho?" Vi shakes her head, anticipation building.

Cait doesn't listen, her face comes down to her firm abs... it was too late...

Cait blows a raspberry, sending shocking tingling sparks through every fibre in Vi. Somethinf she felt nostalgic about with Vander when she was young.

It was still torture.

"AHAHA! OHOKAHAY! OHOkahaY! YOHOHOU WIHIHIN! P-PLEHEHEHEASE!" She squeals again.

"Well now that's a new word from your mouth, blood hell you must so ticklish" Caif laughs going back to using her fingers.

"I AM! STOP!"

Cait, let's off now, cupping her cheek to keep her steady with soft giggles now smiling fondly, "Alright, alright, tiger, I stopped... easy now..."

Gasping for the remaining breath, Vi rubs her tear soaked eyes now groaning, still giggling, "T-Thahat was cheating... C-Cait... never... never do that..."

"But you enjoyed it... you didn't use your strength to push me away... unless..." With a smirk, Cait leans forward, her nose touching Vi's, "Is it a weakness that even you can't handle? How cute..."

Vi grumbles, "I let you win ok? I-it wasn't because I was weak to something so stupid..."

Cait kisses her before she can finish. Now heated in the moment that she didn't pull back swiftly. Vi taken by surprise leans to the kiss.

Pulling back seconds later, Vi sees Cait sighs, "Sorry... it was an impulse... I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable,"

Vi stares now shaking her head stopping her from backing off, "No... I liked it, Cupcake..."

"Vi... I told you not to call me that" Cait giggles now kissing her back lying side by side.

Vi shrugs, "Like I said, you're sweet... like a cupcake..."

"And you're cute..."

Vi's face twists to a pout, "No im cool..."

"You're both and I love that about you..."

Perhaps Cait didn't mind a little memories in the Undercity since she has someone precious by her side.

[justanotherhh]

some trailer things:

big fight around lust/ozzie's place that involves m&m and loona + we know fizzarolli is going to make another appearance, so i wonder how that'll connect potentially. also, new villain?

obvs the whole section of CHERUB working with DHORKS and this massive thing/portal:

john waters big villain episode???? (ghostfuckers from the looks of things)

also more crossdressing in that same episode + millie vs possessed blitz? both millie and blitz giving some evil dead type vibes?

more on stolas' whole social sphere and potential judgement and hell's class politics related to his dating blitz + p much confirmed that blitz will not take stolas' gift in the spirit it was intended

also, "you fucks think you can do this every time-" feels not just like it's about the wider class issues in hell, but maybe like it's personal (potentially with verosika? although it does seem like it's canon that he had more than a little bit of a hand in ending that relationship, so could just be him echoing everything he's been seeing in the treatment of imps and putting that onto stolas in this moment)

and then "thank you blitz, for making me so happy, even for a little while" is during this moment too. lot of teasers for how this is gonna go down (badly, upsettingly, emotionally)

the whole "do you feel any remorse for what you do" feels like a misdirect -- that is, it's edited to look like it's about blitz, but i feel like it's directed at stella or her brother

generally a lot of fun stolas visuals that i won't get into here, but am excited to see more contexts for

also this isn't new, but im always interested in blitz's heart/broken-heart forehead marking

blitz and tilla moment! generally more flashbacks (in the shape of blitz seeming to be almost at the movies, watching his own "failures") around the time of the fire! i didn't see any barbie stuff, alas, but the rest of it looks !!! also lowkey confirmed it was cash who stopped blitz from seeing fizz in hospital

who's this?

another sin? maybe related to ozzie and/or stolas and that judgement of the kinds of people they love?

blitz protecting stolas - maybe from the above, considering the hand motif of it all... stolas really living the life of blitz as a romantic hero, while blitz is barely holding it together as a person the whole time. different genres, my guys. different genres (that's their real communication issue)

this fuck-you-blitz cake looks like a verosika thing to do, esp considering it's her calling him shitty in the VO -- but yay, maybe giving that verosika catharsis, but also generally just verosika!

also the VO part where he says he doesn't want to be this way, he's wearing the same shroud as during his confrontation with verosika. idk, im just. contexts for things. i am curious

is the below also the same episode? I'd think so. it's set during halloween (?) and blitz is then maybe in the blood-covered shroud (costume? undercover? going undercover as a ghost? post-breakup stalking undercover ghost costume?)

MAMMON! and he looks pleased. oh dear.

this blitz + fizz moment

it kinda looks like blitz is wearing the same tee as when he and stolas have their moment + a horse bag + fizz casual wear. fizz generally in this trailer seems to be having the best time (outside the flashbacks). everything makes me suspicious all the time

(also generally hello all the different outfits coming up!!)

fascinated by this:

is that millie?

things we didn't see:

no barbie, no striker, no crimson, no asmodeus (directly, although his imagery is everywhere + fizz and mammon appear), no paimon -- this not to say none of them will show up, but am enjoying that a lot of this is clearly pulling from s1, with the focus on verosika, DHORKS, and CHERUB -- potentially a lot of the s2 villains need some time to lick their wounds a bit (and paimon was never a Villain, just a terrible parent... if he ever returns though...)

and barbie... i do want to see barbie again soonish ngl, she needs some proper introducing, but this is already giving so much callback and continuation of immediate plot-threads, very excited

[hexedwinchester]

Supernatural S05E11 Sam, Interrupted

Huh! You know that starting scene where Dean tries to get Sam admitted to the psychiatrist facility and instead of lying they tell the truth about the apocalypse? So not only Dean didn't say that the apocalypse was his fault too, he straight up exposed Sam's demon blood drinking habit to a stranger?? Just a few episodes ago a couple of hunters tried to force feed Sam demon blood and here is big brother Dean broadcasting it to a doctor??

when we talk about Sam's loss of bodily autonomy, how come no one mentions the gropey examination of the nurse/wraith?

Doesn't Sam just look extra delicious in this episode?! I don't know if it's the setting or the hair or the minimal layer or that white t shirt but oh my damn I wanna dip him in chocolate and eat him up

Not surprised Dean's shrink is a hot doctor

Sam, honey, no! We don't poke swabs into holes found on dead bodies or cut open their skull 💀

Pudding! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Wendy wanting Sam for all right reasons! Right there with ya, sis! (Although, that's twice Sam got assaulted, so there's that)

I love Sam's rage arc in this episode. Now for most of the show we have seen Dean being the one with anger issues but I found Sam's rage quite interesting. The whole mental asylum effect aside, but Sam's rage is more self destructive in nature unlike Dean where Sam ends up being his punching bag. All the wrong decisions he made affected him more than anyone else: like drinking demon blood for example

Loopy Sam is so cute! Like a toasty marshmallow!! Speaking of loopy Sam, i always felt Sam telling Dean it's okay and he still loves him felt kinda out of place until I saw this scene twice. Just before Sam says that Dean tells him that he made a mistake and he'll handle it. That got me thinking, anytime Sam screwed up Dean wouldn't let him hear the end of it. So Sam is basically just trying to treat him in a way he probably would have wanted to be treated..

Anyone remember that post I made about Jared using different voices for his character?? It's very evident when you see the loopy Sam scene. It's not Sam's voice he is talking in, it's more Jared, loud, chirpy, rough around the edges

Boop! And that cute chuckle that follows it 🥰

So Sam and Rowena both have booped Dean. How come no one ever booped Sam?! Sucha cute boopable nose he has got

That conversation between Sam and the doctor is so tragic, i absolutely love it. It's so sad that everyone points out that Sam is not human, he's a freak and it's even worse when Sam admits to it. I hate it so much that I love it!

What's also interesting is that right after the doc points out that Sam is barely human, his brain sort of holds onto that thought and then when he hallucinates everyone is calling him a freak and blaming it all on him. Kinda like the wraith's effect amped it up

His "leave me alones" are so tragic. Oh Sam!

Y'all don't underStand just how important Sam Winchester locked up in a padded cell is to me. I need multiple fics written on that theme. Somebody write it!!!

what will it take for someone to get a bigger bad for this man?! 😭 If it wasn't for the bent knees his footsies would hang off

Dean being squeamish about the wraith's -stinger is it?- Will never be not funny

It's so freaking sad that everyone gaslights Sam into believing that the problem is him. He is inherently bad. Oh Sam!

Dean, sweetie, I know you mean well but please keep your advice to yourself. Shoving or burying down that crap is not best way to cope

Where is the "I want him now, he's larger" gif when you need it?!

[reignof-fyre]

So, I skimmed through the episode and I'm honestly so fucking disgusted with these writers. They're trying to make us sympathise with a literal rapist and cold blooded murderer (aegon and aemond) and trying to make us hate daemon and giving him some weird ass Freudian bullshit with Daemon when it makes NO SENSE whatsoever????? They're really trying to make Daemon the villain when it's so fucking clear that the villains are Alicent, Otto, Criston, Aegon, and Aemond.

Let's not get me started about the bullshit with Corlys whining that Rhaenyra has taken enough from the Velaryons when it was CORLYS HIMSELF who all but demanded she marry his son so his blood could get on the throne????? What. The. Fuck. Is goin' on?

The writers of hotd are worse than d&d at this point, pulling scrabble tiles from a bag and throwing them around. They're clearly illiterate dumb ass fuckin wankers who can't write for shit or READ the source material or PICK UP A PHONE and call GRRM, the AUTHOR and creator of these characters.

All my gasts are flabbered and I'm severely losing interest in this fandom and continuing my hotd fanfics because all my inspiration is being drained out of me

[sameschmidtdiffname]

hai i have a request for a mike fic, so i was thinking of a comfort/hurt type of thing and maybe like a “i didn’t know where else to go” kind of trope where reader shows up to his house in the middle of the night distressed and he comforts her

To All I Think is Safe

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: After a family dinner gone awry, something guides you somewhere where your mind can safely wander in better memories than the ones you're making right now.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for Reader, mentions of arguments, heavy disassociation, heavy nosebleeding, flashbacks, first kiss, date, fear of heights, fair date, author is fucking trying, fluff.

Notes: I think my bosses want me dead. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I can handle family. Who can't handle family?

The part of me knocking on the green door illuminated only by the orange streetlight a few yards away, trying to peak through one of the three window slots on the door to see if there's any sign of life inside of the modest house, praying that there is out of selfish desperation. That's who.

I hadn't called. Hadn't given notice. I'd been too caught up in the emotions of myself to do so, worried I'd be turned away if I had. The thought makes me feel ill now, my mind chastising me for such a self interested act.

For a moment I almost turn to leave, sure that no one is awake and that I've simply wasted the gas in the trip over here. But at the loud clunk of the door unlocking, I feel my heart jump and sink simultaneously as Mike peaks his head through the crack in the door, bags under his eyes and hair tossled from sleep.

"Hey," he croaked, blinking away the sleep as his tired face managed a look of surprise.

"Hey," I said softly, trying not to let my voice crack. But it does. "Is this a bad time?"

I don't know what gives my state away. Maybe it's how swollen my face is, puffy and burning from the overexposure to salt water. I can already feel the skin on my eyes balloning in a disastrously unattractive manner. Maybe it's the snot that's still on my face even after trying desperately to wipe it away, my problem being I'd run out of napkins in my car some time ago and hadn't replaced them, so I'd been resorted to just trying my best to sniff back the snot or use the arm of my jacket, which is now soaked and covered by my hand to conceal it, to wipe it away. God, it's fucking sticky and I feel gross. I don't understand why the snot won't just stop fucking flowing.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Mike says. His eyes widen as he steps forward, instantly dragging me into the house, down the hall and into the bathroom.

Oh. That's why my head hurts.

The white light is blinding and overstimulating in the small, disorganized room. One glance in the mirror and I can see the bottom half of my face is grossly smeared in the snot-blood combo running from my nose, my eyes bloodshot and more dry than a British comedy from all of the tears. I stare at myself for a moment, hardly even realizing Mike is yanking my coat off of me, stroking my hair and trying to ask me questions about what happened. I can hear his voice but the words are muffled, and even though my eyes are staring at him now, I don't know when I turned to face him or what I'm really looking at. I'm just staring at anything. My mother used to call it 'staring off into space.' It's actually a disassociation episode. The kind that can make me lose myself in other thoughts, making me distant from reality where I assume the worst of things.

I'm rational enough to know not to lean into him. If I throw myself into his arms I'll smear my shit everywhere and then he'll be grossed out and will have to play nice after I interrupted his sleep to beg for comfort that should come easily enough from my aforementioned mother, but clearly I'm adult enough now that I don't need coddling and I shouldn't have driven here and-

Am I saying this out loud? Because my mouth is moving and I'm trying to say something but I'll be honest, my head is in disarray and Mike looks worried. Me too, buddy. Me too.

My hands try to help his find a wash cloth in his closet, trying to be useful, but they're covered in snot and blood too and it's dried and horrid looking and I just feel like some sticky toddler that's wailing over nothing because that's what I'm doing, and I'm trying not to dissolve into a new wave of tears because my eyes really, really hurt and I'm gonna end up hiccuping and sobbing and I shouldn't even be here right now.

Mike's hands wrap around mine and he's trying to pull me somewhere. But he won't get out of my way, tugging me forward and blocking me like it's some game. Then I realize it's him he's trying to drag me to, and I try to push away, not wanting to get him dirty or let him fulfill some duty of pity just because he feels obligated seeing me in such a state. He's touching my hair and there's snot in that too and this is all just entirely too much, making me burst out sobbing once more as I try to hide my face in my arm, feeling all too vulnerable and alone while in a house that's not mine in any way, shape or form. But his arms feel nice around me, and he's guiding me to the bathtub and helping me lay down inside of it. When he pulls away I'm paranoid for a second that he'll turn the shower head on and wash me like a drunk, especially when he reaches for the shower handles. He presses a clean, white cloth to the spout and let's just a little bit of water out to wet the washcloth before turning the water off and coming closer to me, dabbing and wiping gently at the drying mixture on my face.

There's a long while of silence. Him carefully washing me, his touch gentle and caring as I feel the wet glumps with dried crusts fade away. The pounding in my head begins to dull to an overwhelming ache, making me shut my eyes as I softly groan. When I think he's done I dare peaking at him from under my lashes, trying to read his mind. His brows are furrowed, probably in disgust. Lips pressed together as he sits on the balls of his heels,, watching me carefully. Most likely he'll let me sleep on the couch and then kick me out in the morning. I'll be lucky if I get the "We should see other people" speech. I wouldn't blame him if my calls just couldn't connect when I get home, leaving me to wonder what could've been if I hadn't been so selfish.

I don't even know the time for fucks sake.

"I'm not crazy," I say in this broken voice that only a crazy person would have.

I don't know what's funny, but he's laughing. His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and he feels so warm. His callouses have this smooth texture to them. Working hands. It's the first thing I noticed when we held hands the first time. It was at some carnival thing, and Abby was with us. It was sweet under those neon lights. The rides always look so cheap, but there's something enchanting in that. It's what I focus on now as my mind finally begins to relax, allowing me the guilty pleasure of mentally slipping away into an actual memory instead of just static filling my mind and drowning everything else out unpleasantly.

"I know," Mike says softly, his thumb stroking the raw skin under my eye as he watches me with a gentle smile, one probably meant to hide his contempt. "You're okay."

The rides had these giant speakers built into them. And the workers would play songs from them, loud enough it was blaring in your ear on the ride but it was a reasonable volume when you were just walking around on the wet, overgrown and matted grass that curls around the giant cables Mike and I both had to be irritating about reminding Abby not to trip on, both of us looking down to watch for them more than looking at anything else.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike asks gently. He's always so gentle. Well, not always.

"Ope, someone lost their drink," I said to Mike, pointing at a spilled lemonade on the dirt path that had been created by decades of the county fair foot-traffic.

"Five second rule," Mike said, his voice low and teasing in my ear, making me burst out laughing.

"That's fucking disgusting!" I exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. A mother passing by snapped 'hey!' At me, tugging her child harshly behind her as she glared. I blushed, covering my mouth with my hand at the outburst, which made Mike laugh just as hard as I just had.

I suppose I have to talk about it. I can't really just not show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night and not just explain myself. But my teeth feel cemented together, my throat full of glue that halts the words I could use to inform him of why I look like this. And my eyes are too tired to make contact with his. So I just melt into his hand, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. And he doesn't press any more.

"I always liked the rides that made me feel like I was flying," Mike said as we watched Abby spin round and round with some girl she often spent her days with. Lisa Something.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking a drink from the giant lemonade that was not at all real lemonade and was instead some horrid sugar that's taking five years off of our lives mixed with whatever makes the color of the drink the same as construction workers glow-in-the-dark vests that I'm sure will have like, ten different studies on how it gives you some cardiovascular disorder from overexposure in twenty years. There's a waxy ring of chapstick around my straw, so it's easy to tell which one to drink from. Mike had gotten just the one giant drink and two straws, shoving them in with a smooth smile as he handed me the already sweaty, Pepsi branded cup to hold while we walked. I think he didn't know that I noticed the twelve year old boy who'd been five people ahead of us in line do the same thing with his date earlier, but it was a cute gesture nonetheless.

"Yeah. I don't know why, it just felt comforting. Wind fuckin' up my hair and shit," he said, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he watched the two girls, who are sticking their tongues out at us as they whirl by.

"What, like you were flying away from your problems?" I ask, genuinely guessing.

"Nah, I don't really think of it like that. Just felt like I was somewhere else for a bit. Could close my eyes and the only anxiety I felt was whether or not Genie there was gonna fucken drop me," he said, glancing at me and smirking as he points at the giant airbrushed painting of Genie from Aladdin on the side of the ride. That's definitely not licensed.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks softly, coming a little closer to me as his other hand cups my opposite cheek. At that I shake my head, pressing my lips together.

"It was all just some giant fiasco," I said as I laughed while trying to aim my basketball for the hoop several feet in front of me. Mike's made like five goals in a row and is proudly holding a very cheap rainbow dolphin with lopsided eyes for me while he watches me struggle just to get one.

"What, your prom date?" He teased, leaning closer to my ear as I take a shot. And miss. Again. "Or this?"

I turned to him, glaring and trying to suppress my amused smile.

"The date was fine, my hair was horrid," I said, turning away from the man working the booth who was trying to convince me to try again.

"I always like your hair," Mike says softly, one hand stroking my hair as he presses his forehead against mine. God, why won't he just tear into me already? The anticipation is fucking killing me.

I open my mouth to respond, but I just hiccup instead. At that he gently helps me up, guiding me out of the bathroom and leading me into the kitchen where he promises a leftover bowl of chicken noodle soup has my name written all over it in the fridge.

There's a thousand insecure questions I want to ask right now. Does he hate me? Will he hate me? Is this just a prelude to an awful breakup? But instead I just cling to my thoughts quietly, not wanting an answer to anything. Reality fading in and out of focus.

The kitchen is quiet as he moves about, dishing out the leftovers and putting them in the cheap, stained microwave he'd had to buy when Abby blew up the last one with a pitiful attempt at making her own rice Krispy treats. He leans against the counter as we wait for the rattling machine to finish, neither of us really saying anything as my leg bounces wildly in anxiety.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks softly after a moment, tilting his head. His arms are crossed in front of him, which is normal for Mike but it still makes me on edge.

I try again to speak, but I can't. It feels like I'll just blow up again if I do. So I just shrug instead, not wanting to talk about the lengthy screaming match I'd managed to find myself in earlier that night.

The microwave beeps loudly, causing us both to start, Mike pulling the door open quickly to shut it up and take out the now hot bowl, hissing under his breath at himself for not grabbing a towel as he quickly moves to set it down in front of me. If I'd been in a better state I would've laughed at the admittedly comical sight, but I felt like I'd done enough at his expense for one night.

Once situated, there's long while of silence. No other noise except for my spoon clinking against my bowl as I eat quietly, Mike watching me across the glass table as he takes a few drinks from his clear glass of water, head on his large hand. A clock ticks in the other room, the hour later than I'd wanted to be when I showed up unannounced.

"I'm sorry," I finally say in a soft voice, my spoon scraping soundlessly against the maroon bowl. "I just didn't know where else to go."

He smiles softly at that, his hand reaching across the table for mine. The touch meant to be comforting instead sends me back into my thoughts, my body stiffening as my mind tries to distract me from my anxiety and doubt.

Our hands had been brushing against each other for hours as we'd walked. Both of us were too nervous to take the others, which is a bit silly since we were grown adults. But really we hadn't had any serious discussions yet. We were still in the dinners and texting phase, dancing around any serious 'what is this' talks until we felt like we would both have similar answers ready for any questions. The night had settled in solidly now, the fairgrounds only alive by the bright lights of the rides.

The grazing, however, had come to an end when the ferris wheel started clicking towards what felt like my untimely demise.

I fucking hate ferris wheels, fun fact.

I don't think Mike particularly likes them either, based off of how stiff his body was next to mine, his eyes trained dead ahead, his jaw clenched. I think he might break a tooth. Or maybe I'm projecting.

Abby and Lisa had been insistent on riding it, and had been even more insistent that Mike and I needed to ride something with them before the night was over. And even though we both looked at the thing with a pit in our stomach, neither of us felt ridiculous about being grown adults on that ride as opposed to all the others flooded with teens and kids dodging in and out, stomping in puddles of who knows what on their way to the next ride. So we gritted our teeth, handed over our tickets and got into the cart right behind Abby and Lisa, who wouldn't stop looking back at us with amused eyes, whispering into each other's each as they covered their mouths.

"My dad worked as a carnie," I blurted out as we hung mid air, halfway up the ride while they still loaded people in. "These things are fucken sturdy."

Mike didn't look at me. Or at least he didn't turn his head. I didn't either. His silence makes my anxiety a bit worse, wondering if my random fact had somehow irritated him, or if there was something I was supposed to do that I wasn't picking up on.

"... I'm gonna die to Creed," he finally said between his gritted teeth.

My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what song is playing, and then I'm laughing. Maybe a little too much, but that's the anxiety. Abby and Lisa are darting their heads around to look down at us, trying to see what's set me off, and Creed's taking One Last Breath on the blaring radio somewhere around us as they have been for the past however many months with the top song.

"I'm never gonna escape this, they play this way too much at work," I laughed. And he started laughing too, both of us white knuckled as we gripped the bar in front of us. Then we move up again, and the cart is slightly rocking, making me feel ill.

"That's okay," Mike says softly, his thumb trailing across my knuckles as I stare down at our hands. "I was missing you, anyways."

I look up at him, trying to read his expression, my head still trying to balance my focuses. There's concern in his eyes, obvious as he realizes how awful this particular episode is.

Abby is yelling something at us, but my head is buzzing with too much anxiety to hear her.

"Go away!" Mike yells back at her, waving his hand in irritation, then stopping as he realizes he's rocking the cart. He looked back at me anxiously, trying to smile. It just looked like he'd been shot instead. "Sisters," he said shyly.

"What's she saying?" I asked him, leaning closer to hear him better over the heavy guitar.

"Nothing," he insisted. "She's just being twelve."

I go to look up, only to feel his hand on top of mine, warm and strong as he grips it a little too hard for the first time, but I think that's out of anxiety too. No matter what, the first move makes me more dizzy.

"Your dad worked fairs?" He asked anxiously, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I should've called first," I say softly, leaning onto the table and pushing the empty bowl away from me as I lay on top of my arm.

"It's okay," he reminds me in a soft voice, rising from his chair while still holding my hand. "You're home now."

"Well, I'm at your home now," I hiccup into my arm. His arms wrap around me, guiding me up and into his warm embrace that I'd been longing for for what felt like hours.

"I thought you said you liked flying!" I laughed, terrified.

"Flying! This is sitting still while dangling above death!" Mike clarified. The carts began clicking again, and we now had an easier view of the two girls in front of us, making him gasp and yell out Abby's full name in scolding.

I see why he didn't want me to look up. Abby and Lisa are miming a make-out session while they giggle obnoxiously.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna fucking ground her," he groaned, covering his forehead with his other hand. His face is completely red, his body so stiff it feels like I could break off his arm with barely any pressure, and my own heart is slamming so hard against my chest I think it's visible.

One more click and we'll be at the top. Great.

He's looking down at me, I think he's trying to get me to refocus but I just can't. I've done my duties for the night, and now I'm stuck in this emotional pit of hatred and numbness as my mind tries to remind me of a better time that just makes me feel worse because Mike is speaking again and I just can't hear him.

"She's being a wingman. Really, she's just spotting a good opportunity," I rambled in Abby's defense. Mike glanced at me, then at the tweens in front of us.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice nerve wracked.

"Oh yeah. Every little sister does it. I mean, it's partially based in torture, but overall she's trying to help," I said quickly, my breath shortening.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking just as pale as me.

"I fucking hate heights, please distract me," I pleaded quickly, only to immediately feel his teeth click loudly against mine as he kissed me, his lips sweet with sugar and hands nearly breaking mine from his tight grip, Abby and Lisa whooping obnoxiously in front of us as we freeze in the moment. It's clumsy, certainly. And it's obvious on both ends how long it's been since either of us have done this. But it's an effective method, my mind beginning to refocus on the taste of the borderline awful lemonade fresh on his breath, his shaking hand moving from the bar to cup my cheek cold from the wind. My eyes widen in surprise, the music swelling around us and the lights somehow brighter as we rock above the rest of the fair in the squeaking booth.

When he pulls away, there's a soft smile on his face, his tongue quickly darting out to taste his own lips.

"... I like your chapstick," he said shyly, neither of us focused on the fact that we're now moving steadily in the ride, fully tuned in to the other.

"Thanks," I said softly, cheeks burning against his touch. "Strawberry."

There's a long second of nothing, and I'm vaguely aware of Abby and Lisa screaming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" And someone is trying to shush them. I know it's not Mike because he's staring at me like an idiot. Completely satisfied and dramatically more calm as he leans in for another kiss, this time pulling me fully into his embrace.

"You're home," Mike repeats against my lips, then moving to trail along my cheeks, his hands carefully cupping my face once more as his touch grounds me back in reality. "I'll be here when your mind gets back."

As my own hands graze along his soft, cotton shirt, I feel my pulse begin to relax. Doubt beginning to creep away as his lips trail along my jaw, slowly working to my neck. It's not a demanding touch. It's just comfort. And he'll keep doing this until I return to him like I always do, and then he'll keep doing it until we both fall asleep in a tight embrace under a dozen blankets, half of which will be gone by morning as we wake in a pool of sweat across the bed from each other, only to seek the other out again in wakefulness. And there will be answers for his questions, and I'll be fine.

I'm home now.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHED SOMETHING. HOLY FUCK I'M OVERWORKED. (Fun fact, this was fucking hard because I was actively disassociating while writing the whole thing. Reader just like me frfr)

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[coffincestuous]

kit9 progress report #9

happy september!!! progress report time!!

to start, we’re given these images:

ashley doesn’t look her best here :( she’s pissed off. there are bags under her eyes. she has a bruise on her face (or blood?). this is not a girl who is having a good time

then we have… this? we’re back to the woods!! i wonder who Square Head and Cone Head are?? i wonder what ashley SAID!!! and what’s with the colorful flowers at the bottom??

(not to mention, they could totally sacrifice these people, and pretty easily too!)

next, we finally have some development progress reporting from kit9!! apparently episode 3A is super long & they’re trying to find a place to end the episode and start another one (4), but they haven’t been able to. they’re adding another several months to their estimated release date, which was previously “sometime in 2024” and is now “sometime in 2025… maybe”

they say, once again, that episode 3 (A and B) will be bigger and longer than episodes 1 and 2 combined, so episode releases won’t be as quick as they had been previously

finally, we have an episode three preview clip!!! it’s titled “voicemails” and the thumbnail is julia on the phone

a summary of the video for those who don’t want to watch, or can’t:

julia and andrew are in julia’s room. she tells him to listen to the voicemails she’s been getting on a daily basis. he declines, saying he’s “had [his] fill,” but julia insists

julia thinks that they’re from ashley, but she doesn’t know for sure because the voice is distorted. the voicemails contain graphic descriptions of julia’s “oncoming, painful and slow death” and then talk about how andrew would rather have sex with ashley than with julia. julia is disappointed in andrew’s lack of reaction to the upsetting content of the voicemails, and implies that he was previously upset about julia receiving these messages, but now he doesn’t care

she brings up the fact that she thinks ashley is sending these messages to her, pointing out that only ashley would use the word “floozy,” and andrew (probably lying) denies thinking that ashley has sent these.

julia disagrees, asking if he really thinks that some girl from college is pretending to be his sister and claiming that they’re a little too close, just to get julia to break up with him? he counters with “it’s working, isn’t it?” julia again disagrees, saying that she really does think that ashley is sending these messages. andrew then mentions that people teased him and ashley in high school for “keeping it in the family.” julia says that his relationship with ashley can seem incestuous, to which andrew reacts by slamming the phone back on the receiver, and getting really pissed at julia

julia gets scared of him, which makes him backtrack very quickly and clairify that he’s upset that julia would “think so lowly” of him. he says that he thinks she’s a wonderful person, while she thinks that he’s a “piece of shit” who “probably fucks his sister.”

julia then starts crying, denies thinking that he and ashley are having sex, and apologizes for starting a fight. andrew hugs her and says it’s fine, it wasn’t a fight, but he’ll “forgive her” either way

finally, andrew decides that they should “stay in after all” and it ends with julia saying she forgets what she even wanted to talk to andrew about

it’s fun to see andrew’s more… “genuine” side, even if he’s kind of an asshole. i guess “authentic” is a better term there. i think there’s an interesting contrast between how he acts with julia versus how he acts with ashley, and i’m so glad that we get to see more of him and julia!!! his lack of reaction to the threats against julia is so, so telling. it makes me think back to the part of episode 2 where andrew can bring ashley into the cult party and the cultist calls ashley a bitch and he immediately gets in the cultist’s face to defend her. there are some similarities between how he acts when he has upset each girl, but he doesn’t excessively compliment ashley when they fight. he doesn’t have to worry about ashley crying when he’s rough with her. he doesn’t have to worry about ashley breaking up with him because they’re not dating and she’s his sister

(chosen family is just as valid as blood family, but with andrew and ashley, their codependency shines)

i love how manipulative andrew is. don’t get me wrong, i’d absolutely hate him irl, but i love him as a character. he’s an asshole. he’s charming. he knows what to say to get people (like julia) to feel guilty of accusing him of something he’s thought about on more than one occasion. he knows that if he acts mad towards julia, that she’ll start fawning and apologizing, and he uses that to his advantage. he is not normal (affectionate)

and i’m glad we get solid “proof” that andrew is just as bad as ashley. before, people have argued that there’s plausible deniability, but now?? omgggg. especially when he’s hugging her, saying to julia the things he wishes he could say to ashley instead… they make me crazy. absolutely insane. i am so fucking excited for episodes 3 and 4

[indie-ttrpg-of-the-week]

Planedawn Orphans

It is such the nature of humanity that we every so often reinvent Homestuck 

Genre: Found Family, Vaguely fantasy?, multiverse game (Kinda)

Touchstones: Planescape (they don't mention it but I imagine Torment's party specifically was probably a big inspiration), Dark Heart of the Dreamer

What is this game?: Game's a generous term, Planedawn Orphans is a system-agnostic campaign kit meant to introduce a general story loop to any system

How's the gameplay?: Planedawn Orphans has the gameplay of any system you'd like!.. ok that's not EXACTLY it, but planedawn orphans has only small amounts of gameplay on its own, instead what it adds is a storyline to any system, somewhat similar to a module, but entirely system agnostic, and left open ended for modification, we'll get into what exactly the plotline is in the next session, but for now just know that most of Planedawn's gameplay is entirely focused on players taking actions to add drama into instanced levels, as the game focuses on the players hopping between different themed planes

What's the setting (If any) like?:  This is where the going gets interesting, the players are all Orphans, people from different planes of reality who, for one reason or another, were abandoned by their own world, and left to wander in the big city between worlds, they have recently met an incredibly powerful patron who promises to create a new world, one where they can live peacefully without prejudices of their previous world. Planedawn Orphans' primary setting are the different universes the players will have to explore to gather the parts for their new world, maybe they need to get a bag of wind so that their universe has oxygen, or the blood of a dead god to create life, that sort of thing! there's 13 aspects by default, meaning that a game will usually by default have 13 "chapters" as the players explore different universes, the game's episodic nature also lends itself to round-robin style play, with one player taking over the role of GM in a rotating format every realm.

What's the tone?: Planedawn Orphans treats on themes of found family, hope in a desolate place, and friendship between unlikely people.

Session length: Uh, depends on what you're running it on ig?

Number of Players: 3-5, round robin parties can likely support more players

Malleability: Infinite, I guess, since its not really a game 

Resources: You don't really NEED resources for this but the game features some trackers to keep track of clocks and collected artifacts

Ok so this isn't REALLY a game, this is a campaign resource for running a specific type of campaign, it as such shouldn't really Be here, but Planedawn is also one of my favorite... ttrpg things of all time, and I think more people need to be aware of it! it's a really really fun time if you can find a good game to run it in, I recommend Lancer! there's 13 artifacts, which maps exactly into a 0-12 lancer campaign

[love-toxin]

Retrieval - entry II

entry I

plot: forging on through the horrors you've endured thus far, you venture deeper into the plagas cult territory to find something waiting for you there. more than something--someone.

(cws: fem!reader, blood, body horror, gun violence, knives, mention of a car accident, hurt-comfort, wound tending, raccoon city flashbacks, passing mention of smut)

word count: 5.3k

Even if you did plan out a route on your map, you've quickly realized that the landscape has changed so dramatically in your time away that it likely wouldn't have made a difference. In no uncertain terms, you are completely and devastatingly lost.

By now, the afternoon sun has long started beating on you from overhead and the sprinkling of rain this morning has turned the air thick and uncomfortably muggy. Each step up the incline of the dirt path and by extension the shifting of your clothing is a constant reminder of how sweaty you are, your stretchy shirt damp and sticking to your chest while beads of sweat pour down your neck and cling to your eyelashes. Your gloves have had to come off and Leon's jacket would've followed if the alternative wasn't to carry it–but regardless of those small choices you just have to accept the discomfort and keep trudging forward. You've got no idea where you're headed now but you won't get anywhere by sitting around, and at least you can try to peek through the trees and rocky inclines that line the road to see if you can spot any discernible landmarks. While you still have the task of finding Leon, returning to the village is no longer an option after what you saw this morning.

A shudder runs through you merely at the thought of it, your mind fuzzy with the memories like your brain is trying to protect you from the sight of that massacre. And it's almost worse to ponder that act of senseless violence than it was to witness the aftermath of it, not just because you recognize that some of those bodies were villagers that you'd cut down yourself, but also because you can't envision what kind of monster would have spread out such an unholy image for you. None of the creatures you remember seeing would have the patience or planning to do such a thing, and if it had been the work of a particular monster you'd faced off with, you're certain that if they knew you were there they would've killed you outright instead of trying to–what? Scare you?

Your boot meets a rock and you absentmindedly kick it up, watching with a passive interest as it skitters and tumbles its way around the path before rolling to a stop in the grass beside it. Was it to scare you? Could it have been a fluke, and you'd just barely missed the rampage of a vicious and callous monster? Or was it the will of the Plagas that called them there, and either ended them from within or had them hack each other into oblivion? You've got a feeling you would've heard something if either of those things were the case, but then again your sleep had been….preoccupied.

You shift the straps of your bag to ease the weight from one shoulder to the other, your gaze fluttering from one end of the path to the other like the presence of someone else would somehow allow them to be privy to your thoughts. The intense sweating you've been doing for the last few hours has masked over that wetness between your legs that you've been dealing with, the two forces intermingling so you can't really distinguish one kind of dampness from the other. It certainly doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, and it's an unfortunately clear-headed reminder of the shame you often feel after having one of those dreams about Leon.

After all, he is–was–your best friend. You met before Raccoon City went to shit, you lived through it together, and you faced the same hardships that came after when the world around you wanted to forget the cruelty of that horrid night. You knew how to joke around and keep the air light, you could drag each other out of your depressive episodes when nobody else could reach you, and Leon knew every ugly bit and piece of your life just like you knew his. Your friendship had always been something precious and you could never imagine throwing that all away by admitting to him that you're in love with him. He had been the only person in the world that you knew cared about you, the only person that would go to the ends of the earth to defend you, and to lose that would be equal to a death. It's what's made this loss all the harder, feeling like you've lost him twice over and having to mourn it all alone. And the guilt hits you even more when those feelings bubble up inside you again, because all you want is for them to just go away so you can grieve Leon as what he was, not what you wanted him to be.

You're always tempted to think he'd see you as gross for imagining doing those things with him, to him, but in reality you know that if you ever told Leon he would get the biggest head about it. Feelings or no, he'd be so smug he'd tease you until the end of time and it would stroke his ego to the heavens and back–and whenever you think about it, it just brings a smile to your face on instinct. He could be such a bastard sometimes, but there's no better person you could've called your best friend. Which, of course, makes the pang in your heart hurt all the worse when you're reminded that he's gone, and that he took his last breath in a place like this.

Speaking of which, it dawns on your senses that something absolutely reeks. Granted, the whole village smells of shit and blood–but this smell is different, it's almost worse, and it's to the point that you almost feel the need to pull your shirt up over your nose to block out the invasive wretchedness of it all. It's somehow getting worse as you walk, which can only mean you're getting closer to the source of it–and if it wasn't obvious by now, it becomes obvious with the crack of an aging engine roaring up and the sound of tires scraping over dirt and gravel. Fuck.

The raspy chorus of voices reaches you over the crest of the hill, and within moments of you halting in your tracks the vehicle comes barreling into view. On two crooked axles your imminent death approaches in the form of a truck gunning down the hill at top speed, two Ganados in the seats while God knows how many more growl and shout from the back and behind, brandishing their tools like weapons and vying for your blood.

It only takes seconds for your choices to dawn on you, but even that time isn't generous enough to give you much chance for a successful retreat. With two steps back you finally feel the panic whack you in the chest, but it powers your legs before you can think to move them and soon enough you're sprinting back the way you came. Your feet feel too light to control on the slope but you can't just stop, the heat of the engine is already at your back and if you hesitate, you know you're dead.

Fishing down the opening of your top, your fingers jab the secret pouch you sewed in there and two bullets come back out in your palm, warm steel forcing a calmness into your frayed nerves as you frantically load them into your gun. Those bullets are for emergencies, and you've encountered worse outcomes than this, but dying here would mean failure and there wouldn't be anyone left to try and bring you back to life this time.

You throw your arm back behind you to shoot, and everything flashes a bright, hot light to blot out the world–and then, just as swiftly, it all goes black as the ground falls out beneath you, pain shoots up your spine, and your eyes finally snap shut into total darkness as flame engulfs you.

"Officer! Wake up, officer!"

You haven't been called that in a while, but it still feels familiar–the voice, however, is different. There's only a distant wisp of something you recognize as you struggle to open your eyes.

"S'okay, I'm fine-" Your mumbling rings soft and faint over the crackling of fire and rain, barely audible–but the soon-to-be familiar face shakes his head and huffs a sigh as he pulls you back up to sit straight.

"You are not fine, officer. You're bleeding."

You see now what the situation is, your vision coming back into focus as Leon's warm hands steady you against the alley wall. Your memory's still fuzzy, but the pain shooting up and down your left leg is all you need to remind you of what just happened.

You'd been running down the street, escaping from a herd of the zombies with a bag slung over your back–the artillery from the station had been spread out all over the city and the medical supplies had run dry, so for almost half a day you'd been gone from the station to scout for supplies and redirect survivors towards the safehouses you and your fellow officers had staked out. One of them being the station itself, which had just come into view after you'd skidded around the nearest street corner and spotted those bright lights illuminating the front gate.

But after that, your recollection gets a little fuzzy. You'd heard a screeching sound on your left from behind, felt the tremor of something shaking the ground as several pairs of rotted hands reached for you from over your shoulder…and from there everything is a complete blur. A flash and a wave of heat had rushed over you, the blaring of a horn sounding from behind, and you vaguely recall the ground falling out from beneath you–although, based on the stiff soreness of your back, you suspect the impact of the truck that had hit you had sent you flying and you somehow wound up in this alley, or close to it. You've got a pretty good feeling you didn't just end up sitting back against it with your head propped up, else you've got the devil's luck for certain.

"Leon," You rasp, your throat dry and cracked from the heat and your laboured breathing. With that worried expression painted clear on his youthful face, he holds up a bottle of water to your lips–and you drink gratefully, feeling refreshed even by the wasted droplets dribbling down your chin as you struggle to swallow. "You can call me by my name, y'know–unless you don't remember, in which case my feelings are a–nngh, shit–little hurt." You cringe at the feeling of cloth scraping over your open wounds, nails digging into your other leg as Leon grazes the gash on your opposite thigh with a bit of medicine in hand. It's deep, you can tell that much, and if this were a movie you're morbidly certain that this would be the moment your partner has to put you down before you turn. Maybe you're already getting there, if the feverish heat crawling up your chest is any indication.

You shift your gaze over to the lump beside you, and find that your hand has been resting on the same bag you'd risked hide and hair for. It's half unzipped and looks like it's been rummaged through. It dawns on you that the water, gauze, and other medical supplies he's got rolled out are all part of the stash–and how embarrassing is that? You made so many promises to Marvin and the others that you would come back with hope in your arms, and yet you're the one using what you brought before you've even returned. Clipped by a fucking truck of all things. Yet, when Leon rolls your name off of his tongue with the ease of someone that's said it a thousand times before, your heart flutters and calms all at the same time.

"You're pretty relaxed for someone that just got hit by a car." He reaches out to squeeze your hand, and does so even tighter as he presses an alcohol-soaked pad into your jagged, bloody flesh. It stings like shit immediately and rips a string of curses out of you, but it's a necessary evil, so you just grit your teeth and bear it to try and make it easier for Leon to work. Being a newbie, you figured he would freak out…and yet, somehow, he's even calmer than you and he's doing a damn good job of keeping you distracted for him to tend your wounds.

"Truck, excuse you. Get your facts straight, rookie. Sounds cooler if you call it a truck-" Your half-joking reply is cut short as a sharp cry erupts out of you without warning. Burning pain shoots through your leg, tears immediately welling in your eyes and speeding down your cheeks as the searing sensation overwhelms almost every other sense. Your body jolts with it and Leon's hand comes down firmly on your thigh to keep you still, his other hand pressing warmth into your wound over the cloth he's smeared some herbs into. When the agony eventually starts draining out of you, it takes your strength with it and leaves you slumped back against the wall, lungs tight and burning from you panting and gasping for breath. With another wave soon to come and several more to follow, you have nowhere else to brace yourself but on Leon's shoulder, which you grab hard and squeeze tight as he works the medicine in and goes through the painfully considerate process of disinfecting the wound and bandaging it tight with a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.

"Anything in there?" You finally manage to pant out, forehead dripping with sweat that he takes care to wipe with the other side of the cloth.

"No, don't think so."

"Thank fuck. I'd rather die than yank it out. You're a lifesaver, Lee." You're trying not to whimper as you speak, you don't want to come off as weak, but Leon really doesn't look like he minds nor that he's gonna use it against you in the future. His concern is written plainly on his face, thumbs gentle but firm as he wipes your tears like a brother would do for his younger sister. Or a friend for a friend. A partner for a partner.

"...Lee?" He murmurs, repeating the nickname for you both in a teasing way and a surprised one. You've only met a handful of times, haven't even gotten to know each other aside from the general pleasantries–but he seems happy. Relieved, really, that you don't mind his help or his company.

"You prefer 'rookie'?" You huff right back, anticipating a bit of sass or a rebuttal in some way. But he just shakes his head, seemingly unperturbed as he starts briskly packing the medicine back into your bag as the rain patters against it.

"No, no, just…I've never had a nickname before. Call me whatever you like." He speaks with a smile on his face and it would be irritating, if not for how sincere his words are and how much joy he clearly gets from the smallest gesture. As much as you'd like to dwell on it and humour him with a dozen questions, the zzzzip of your bag beside you and the shuffling as he lifts it up and pulls it snug over his shoulder brings you back to reality. Your very, very unfortunate reality, if the groaning and gnashing sounds in the distance are any indication.

"I hate to say it, but there's no way you're walking on this leg." He says that so ominously but his baby face really isn't doing him any favours, and you're not one to just back away when something needs to get done. So, despite his advice, you grip the wall behind you and stagger to get to your feet, bracing yourself against the warm brick as you hiss in pain and raise yourself unsteadily on only one leg–which, of course, has Leon holding out his hands to steady you as you do, exasperation passing over his features as you make no effort to use him to stabilize yourself.

"Hey! What did I just say?" Leon clicks his tongue like a mother hen, but doesn't leave you high and dry at all. He grabs the arm on your bad side and manhandles you into pulling it over his shoulders, his strength and the hand bracing your opposite hip giving you a very inconvenient shiver. Focus. "You're so stubborn."

"I'm not just sitting out here to die."

"I didn't say that. Here," With one step forward, it's clear that you're not gonna move fast enough to make it to the station unscathed. In a case like this, you'd expect to be left here while the more able-bodied of the two of you goes ahead with the medicine and sends backup when he can–but obviously that isn't quite what Leon has in mind. Instead, he bends down to slide his arm up behind your knees, counts down from two, and sweeps your legs out from beneath you with a careful swiftness to lift you up in a bridal carry. "It's okay, I got you." It's embarrassing and humbling all at once, a squeak smothering itself behind your teeth as you immediately cling to him with your arms around his shoulders. But he doesn't seem at all fazed, and doesn't even stumble as he starts walking towards the edge of the alley. If anything, he walks with more balance while he's carrying both you and your precious cargo to safety. "I'm not just gonna leave you behind."

Leon's got more integrity with one day of the force under his belt than most officers you've known. He's a blessing and an anomaly all at once, precious and potent like both an antidote and a poison mixed as one. But however unclear your feelings about him were that night, you know for certain that you would've died cold and alone in that alley if not for him. He rescued you without any inkling as to what he would get out of it–and even if it kills you, you're going to repay that favour by rescuing him.

"Well hello, miss stranger."

Your eyes flutter open, the ceiling of a room the first thing to meet your gaze–and the second being a man hunching over a table opposite from you, your head turned so far you nearly stumble off the makeshift cot you've been laid out on. "Had a nice nap? Figured as much–you took quite the nasty hit to the skull. Lucky you're still breathing!" He cackles jubilantly, and if nothing else that raspy laugh is what clues you in to that small shred of remembrance.

"Merchant? Wh…What are you…?" You shake your head in disbelief, a soft 'nevermind' passing your lips as you just elect to take this all in at face value. You never understood this 'Merchant' guy when you were here before, so you can't expect to pick him apart for answers now. With measured steps you approach his counter and try to shake off your limp in the process, your eyes scanning over the crowded shelves of his wares–and the inner pockets of his coat that he flashes open to take you by surprise.

"Uh…you got anything for my pistol?"

The Merchant chuckles heartily, and out comes several boxes of the convenient ammunition from beneath his rickety little table. With what little you've got to trade that you spread out on his counter, you can get about two boxes with twenty bullets each for most of what you're carrying. The money for airfare, a cab to the station, and some light supplies you picked up once you landed in Spain has cleaned you out pretty good, but he's fair as always and even offers to clean your gun for you while he's at it.

"Ooh, before you wander off–I've got somethin' extra for you, missy."

With a flourish befitting....him, he pulls out a decently sized piece of equipment out from a box behind him, and turns to lay the shotgun flat across your hands, the weight sinking into your palms as his half-gloved fingers retreat and he lets you get a feel for it. It's pretty hefty on its own, polished and substantial with a trigger that's got the kind of resistance you're used to. With a gesture from him to encourage trying it out, you take a decent step back from his table and lift the gun up into the crook of your arm, eyes lining down the length of it towards a very convenient lantern propped up on top of the crumbling stone wall opposite to you.

One cock of the shutter, a breath in–and a bang erupts from the courtyard, the lantern shattering into a thousand pieces and the Merchant's raspy laughter rising like the flock of crows that take flight from further into the castle grounds, cawing like mad at the sound that echoes like thunder throughout the canyon.

"She's a beaut, ain't she?" The hunched man chortles, clearly prideful of his work. You lower the gun back down to your hip, the smell of ashy powder filling your nose, and nod quietly before turning back to him and holding it out over his counter.

"It's great, but you've got all I had. Maybe I'll come back for it."

"Naw, missy–you keep that. S'on the house this time." Your brows raise in shock and a touch of confusion, along with a little seed of distrust that you can't help but entertain. You know better than to trust people blindly, especially strangers, but then again the Merchant doesn't exactly conform to any expectations you could've had. At your hopeful confirmation of "really?" he nods your way, the bandana that covers his face slipping a bit as he tilts his head forward and reaches behind him.

"While you're at it, have this too–not gonna be much use to me, I'm afraid." With a flourish, he unveils a sheath he'd been hiding only god knows where and sets it down in front of you. From just one glance as you strap your new shotgun to your back, a glimmer of recognition wells up inside you and your hands find the hilt in a matter of seconds. Raising it to your face, you gently tug on the handle to slide the blade all the way out….and sure enough, you do recognize it. The engraving on the side is about as familiar as your own handwriting considering how often you've been on the sharp end of this knife–a product of endless close-combat training sessions that your best friend insisted on practicing with you. It hits you right then–Leon would've died before he let go of this precious thing.

"Where did you find this? Here?"

"Just up the stairs there," He jerks his thumb back towards the entryway behind him, hazy memories of that winding path coming together in your mind as you recall going down it before. "Picked it up from a bloody puddle in the main hall. Return it to your friend, would ya? He's my best customer." You can feel his grin from behind the mask, and a pang hits your heart as you consider breaking the news to him….but the adrenaline is kicking in now and you just have to go, you have to briskly bid him goodbye and excuse your hurry as you rush out towards the stairs and mount each set in record time as you make a mad dash for the foyer.

By sheer luck, your frantic sprint through the winding courtyard betrays no hint of activity since you were here last. The cannon still sits perched at the top of the tower for a raven to crow atop it, and while the stairs are littered with bits of crumbling rubble they're still relatively easy to climb as you come out on the other side, mere feet of space separating you from the smashed-open gate you'd both fought so hard to get into. Down the looming path overshadowed by two huge, towering walls on either side, you hurry up the last few steps and brace both hands on the heavy doors, grunts of effort foregrounding the scrape and rusty squealing of the hinges as you slowly push them open to reveal the place Merchant had directed you towards.

"Hngh-!" With one last shove, you swing them out slowly and step back to catch your breath, before clambering through the entrance and slowing your run to a jog and then to a stop, eyes roaming in wide sweeps around the massive entrance room to look for some kind of clue. It's just as misty around the floor as it was before and the lights fortunately haven't gone out, yet the suits of armour, vases, side tables and weapons scattered everywhere don't alert you to anything immediately out of place. You do find yourself plucking a chunk of loose stone off the ground and slinging it at the nearest knight, however, just to watch as the plates of silver armour clatter with a hollow sound before crashing into a heap on the floor. It's better to be safe than sorry considering what you and Ashley went through last time with those things.

In doing so, and in stepping over to kick aside the helmet with a bit of indulgent violence, something catches in your eye in your peripheral. With a glance, you spot a few dribbles of otherwise un-noteworthy blood and slot your gun out of its holster just in case. But when you kneel down to check it out and wave a bit of the mist away, your eyes widen in disbelief as you see the speckles of blood lead toward a puddle–and beyond that, a trail that guides your line of sight all the way towards the set of doors leading to the inner sanctum.

Is this Leon's?

You shuffle quietly towards the pool of it a bit further away, realizing only upon getting closer how big it really is. Aside from the puddle itself there are smears drawn through it and radiating out to paint the unmarred floor, as if someone had either stepped through it and slipped or had sat down completely and let themselves bleed freely where they lay. Based on the trail, it resembles the evidence of an attack, an injury or death, and then the person being dragged off towards a second location. But no matter how weak he might have been, you just can't picture Leon being hurt like this and not fighting back, not winning in general, because when you pull out the knife and hold it over the puddle you can clearly see the spot it had been lying in when Merchant had picked it up.

There's only one other option you can think of, though, which is somehow more gruesome than the thought of your best friend being stabbed and his body being dragged away to be disposed of…

…Did he try to cut the parasite out of his body?

The scene in front of you paints a horribly gruesome picture with that idea in your mind. Did Leon sit here, bloody and injured from the explosion, and attempt to cut the Plagas out from his body? If he did, did he succeed? Or did he simply put himself through more torture before he met his inhuman end, and was dragged off by some other force to be used for more of their sick rituals? Following the trail of blood where it leads is your only option, but it is an option, which is something you've slowly started believing you weren't going to find after all.

"Leon!"

You call out his name as you get back up to your feet, your voice ringing through the hall in haunting echoes. It doesn't matter if you draw whatever's hiding out into the open. At least you'll know what's waiting around the corner to strike–and in the case that Leon hears you, you want him to know that you tried. You're trying. You want him to realize you want to find him, you're thinking about him, you care for him and that you didn't leave him behind just to forget about him. You're here now and you'll do anything if it means getting him back.

"Leon, I'm here!"

The next set of doors part somewhat easier than the ones that lead outside, your shoulder more than enough for you to push through and slip into the next room to track the trails left behind. Your legs stall once you've wound through the interconnected room between and laid your hand on one of those huge doors around the corner–you know exactly what could be waiting there, and what you'd had to deal with last time–but it just isn't enough to stop you, even though it should. You push through it and take a step into the long, massive room that stretches out into many key areas for an ambush, and breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of the wheels still in place and the staircase already lowered. Perhaps you have been lucky and nothing else has really changed aside from Leon's presence, but that still doesn't allow you to give yourself pause as you hurry up the steps and hop over the pedestals with your gun drawn. The blackened, muddy water doesn't scare you, nor do the half-ajar doors up on the catwalks that could burst open and spill out with bloodthirsty cult zombies. The trail Leon's left for you is getting thinner and sparser, however, and that does worry you as you approach the next set of doors and take them each in stride.

You can't lie to yourself, your hope is dwindling just as quickly as it came on. Only splatters and splotches of the trail remain and nothing else has alerted you of his presence yet–no notes, no scraps of fabric torn off his clothes, not even a hair in sight for you to inspect and try to determine whether or not it's Leon's. Maybe it was just a stray dog or a wolf after all. Maybe you really are grasping at straws.

"No. He's here. Don't give up yet." You whisper under your breath to yourself, praying in the very back of your mind that the self-reassurance is enough to keep your feet moving as you head in the direction of the courtyard. You just keep repeating it in your mind. He's here. He's here. Leon's gotta be here. I know he's here. I'll find him. Your inner voice grows so strong as you walk through the chilly air of the night that you really start to feel that way, to the point that it feels like Leon's eyes are piercing into you.

In fact, it really feels like you're being watched when you start thinking about it. It's probably just paranoia, and understandably so considering this place's gruesome past. Your knuckles brush over the handle of Leon's knife at your hip out of habit, but even with that thought in mind you still stop in your tracks right at the gate into the courtyard.

You swear you just heard a cough. It couldn't be. Monsters don't cough. Not like that.

The blade slings out of its sheath with a shiiing that could cut the air itself, and your fingertips are just barely brushing the grip as it flies in an arc out of your grasp–that's the moment you get a glimpse of the person standing behind you, and your breath chokes itself out of your mouth as the tip of that bloodied blade meets their throat.

You could've anticipated almost anything…but not this. Anything but what's standing before you, staring you down with eyes that could burn you down into ashes and blow you away in the breeze.

[hughiecampbelle]

Arrangement (Roy!Sibling x Lukas Matsson)

((SUCCESSION SPOILERS))

Character/s: Lukas, Kendall, Shiv, Roman, Logan mention

Word Count: 1,732

Requested: hi!! can i request roy!baby sibling being sent to “woo” lukas in favor of the deal? they were indifferent at first but eventually fell for him. (not necessarily needed to be included but i imagine kendall would find out about the blood thing with ebba and try to tank the deal hahaha) - anon

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Hope you like it my love!!! This is based off the latest episode, so spoilers ahead for anyone who hasn't seen it!! Thank you for requesting!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

You cleared your throat, following him through the doorway. Your glass was cold, the stem fragile, the red wine disgusting. Something expensive, Tom had poured, swishing around, threatening to spill. You took one last glance back. They stood huddled together, nodding at you, insisting you go in. You would have rolled your eyes if he hadn’t turned to see you, inviting you in. You smiled, cursing your family. Fuck Kendall, fuck Shiv, fuck Roman, and especially fuck Logan. The door shut behind you, making you jump. Don’t worry, I’m not going to try anything. I just want to talk. His hand fell the small of your back, ever so slightly pushing you along to where the living set sat. Fuck all fo them, you added at the end, over and over again until you were sitting across from him. The room was dark except for a few lamps. One wall was floor to ceiling windows. He had his back turned on the view, as if it didn’t matter, as if the only thing you should be focusing on was him. Shiv’s home had so many rooms, so many ins and outs, it was a wonder she didn’t get lost every day. You couldn’t help yourself, letting your eyes wander over him, above him, to the glittering city. It was too dark to see any details, but that didn’t really matter. It stood grand, solid, daunting in the darkness. Your home, for as long as you’ve been alive. It looked its most perfect at its most blurry, shunned from the daylight. 

He looked tired. That was the first thing you’d noticed about him when he showed up. He wasn’t some godlike creature they all feared he was. He was just some guy in a gold jacket. The bags under his eyes were puffy, as if he hadn’t slept in a while. He brought Ebba and Oskar with him, making fun of them as if that’s what all bosses did. You weren’t sure if you should laugh or not, so you said nothing. Everyone seemed uncomfortable but him. You had Gerri, Frank, and all of your siblings. An army, and for what? This guy? You tried to hide your smile. This was the guy everyone had been worried about? Leave it to them to be dramatic. Jesus, you could have stayed in the home. It was a last minute invitation. Whose idea, you’re not sure. After everything with dad, you were more than happy to tag along. It was a wanted distraction. The thought sent a shiver through your body. This election party was a nice distraction, even if it meant schmoozing with this guy. He shook hands with your brothers, and attempted to hug your sister, stopping at you. His eyes seemed to light up. You went in for a hug, unsure of what else to do, as Kendall introduced you. Y/n, the baby of the Roy family. You’d never met him before. You weren’t even sure he knew you existed. You were as far removed from the company as possible. You just weren’t interested. You had a life outside of all this. You thought everyone should do the same, though the idea isn’t well liked. He likes you, Roman said while you two followed the rest to a private room. Was that true? He just learned your name, and yet, it seemed like he couldn’t take his gaze off you, even if you were the least significant Roy in the room. You had no idea what the deal was, what you were supposed to be rooting for, only that it was worth a lot and it was keeping your brothers up at night. Shut up, you hissed back, really wishing you’d said no. The deal went well in Norway, so you thought this was just a formality. You had no idea it was falling apart behind the scenes. 

It was their plan all along. Kendall and Rome had learned his “type”. He had a weakness for someone who looked like you. It didn’t hurt that you were the youngest, either. Barely legal, Roman always joked, though you were far older than that. They knew bringing you along would help, at least it would offer some sort of distraction, like a parting gift. He gets to talk to you, stare at you, imagine whatever he wanted, and they’d get their deal. All you had to do was stand there and look pretty. You’d figured it out quick enough. You played nice, used your best manners, but they were acting strange about it. They watched your every move, paid close attention to everything you did and said. They waited for him to laugh at your jokes before they found it funny. Lukas seemed distracted by you, too. He lost track of what they were talking about, having to be gently, constantly reminded. Even out on the grass, surrounded by his team, the rest of you left to mingle, he always found his way to you. Rome was right. The more he got to know you, heard your sarcasm, your jokes, your unfiltered thoughts and feelings, the more he seemed to like you. Want you. Over the balcony's edge, he followed you out, stood beside you, asking you questions, needing to know more. What were your interests, your hobbies, why weren't you more involved in the company. They never took their eyes off you, wanting to make sure what you were saying was okay. He wasn’t even supposed to show, but he did, and you were his bait. 

Is he always like that? You ask, taking another rancid sip, Oskar I mean. He was high, obviously, and keen on making everyone he came into contact with uncomfortable. He talked about your body in ways you’d never thought at a political party. Lukas came to your defense immediately, seriously, making him and Ebba jump at his tone. You hadn’t expected him to be so offended on your part, but he seemed genuinely upset, leaving the pair in favor of your company. Like an asshole? Most of the time, yes. He chuckles. I am sorry for his behavior. You force a smile. You should hear what they all say. They’re on their best behavior tonight. There were a few Nazis here, it could have been much worse. He nods, understanding, having gotten a warning speech from your sister about how to act and what to say. He asks how you’re doing with your father. You shrug. No one’s asked you since that night. It still feels unreal. He talks about his own father. You can’t help but notice how human he looks all of a sudden, so fragile, so small. You almost feel bad for him. Despite the situation, being offered up to him like a piece of meat, he’s a kid just like you, like your siblings, pretending to know how to handle this niche slice of adulthood. You make a joke about the wine  that gets you a smile. You become more comfortable with him, letting your shoulders drop, your spine slouch. He speaks of Sweden, how beautiful it is, how much he misses it. About his past relationships, that they never seemed to work out. About your family, how messy they are. You can’t help but agree. Not just your siblings, though it was a miracle you were all in the same room without fighting, but your father and mother. He was cruel and took pleasure in pinning you against one another. She was absent and yet so needy, unstable. You talk about your past relationships, how hard it was to find someone who wanted you, not your money or your name. An hour has gone by before you know it. You didn’t mean to tell him all of this, to open up, it just happened. 

Do you want to go back to the party? He asks, eyeing the door. Not really, you think. You can hear the murmur of guests just outside. All of them trying their best to smile and get along. Tomorrow they’ll be at one another's throats. Do you? He shakes his head no. It’s more fun here. That makes heat rush to your face. The conversation flows without any hiccups. Where you want to travel next, what you wanted to be when you were a kid, all your thoughts about the next presidential candidate, favorite ice cream toppings. You spoke about everything and anything. His laugh came easy, especially at your jokes. It was one of the things he liked most about you, your humor. He told you things he wasn’t proud of, things you’d later realize information  your brothers would have killed for. Nothing big, nothing scary, just personal fears. He trusted you with this. You wouldn’t tell another soul. You liked him a hell of a lot more than when you first met. He was more of a person, not just a walking conglomerate. His company was even enjoyable. He had absolutely no filter and said some outrageous things, but in a world like yours, that was normal. The only reason you even stopped was because of a knock at the door. Shiv wore a tight smile, asking if she could speak to Lukas alone. Behind her, Kendall and Rome watched. I’ll see you soon, he promised, don’t stray too far. You nodded, getting up, leaving the room. You couldn’t read your brother's expressions, but it didn’t look good. Wordlessly, they took your arm, leading you far from the room. What the fuck? I was doing what you said to, you said once you were alone, pulling yourself from their tight grips. Roman rolled his eyes. Not everything is about you. Did he tell you about the blood and hair? What the fuck was he talking about? The shock on your face was enough to convince them. They began speaking at the same time. Fucking Matsson has been sending. . . stuff to his ex-girlfriend. I don’t want you going near him again. His numbers are all wrong, they’re all made up. Never should have used you like this. Fraud. Deal. Freak. What were they talking about? You looked down the hall, through the open doorway, where Shiv is talking to him. She looked angry, upset. He seemed content, even jovial, laughing at himself. Was this true? You wouldn't believe it. He seemed like such a nice guy.

[laforzadelvoila]

Reunion (Chrollo x Pakunoda)

Notes: I've been really interested in Hunter x Hunter lately, and although I haven't finished reading all the manga arcs, I've been following the new chapters and have developed a fascination with Phantom Troupe, in particular with these two characters.

I've been thinking a lot about Chrollo and Paku's tragedy, so this little one-shot is an outgrowth of that. I don't know, maybe I will write other fanfics about them or other HXH characters.

I'm sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language.

The small, skinny black kitten let out a weak meow, catching the attention of the tall, slender teenager girl who was walking among the debris piled up in that dump. The blonde girl crouched down and petted the poor cat, who began to purr weakly. She took a piece of bread out of her pocket and offered it to the little creature, who desperately accepted the portion of food, tearing off chunks of bread.

Pakunoda gave a sad smile. Since she was a child, she had the habit of feeding the abandoned animals she found in Meteor City with the little she had left, even when she herself barely had anything to eat. The cat finished swallowing the bread, rubbing itself affectionately against the gentle girl's hands.

“Paku?” a simultaneously strange and familiar voice called her.

When she turned around, the cat ran towards the owner of the voice: a teenage boy the same age as her, with completely black hair, eyes and clothes. For a moment, Pakunoda barely recognized him, but it didn't take long for her to realize that this grown-up young man in front of her was her best friend and childhood crush, whom she hadn't seen in three years.

“Chrollo?” she approached the boy, who was petting the black cat.

Paku knew that the Chrollo she had known as a child had already died three years ago. After all, a part of herself, her innocence and her dreams also died on that same rainy night when the two, together with their friends, discovered Sarasa's dismembered body inside a garbage bag suspended from a branch of a tree. The brutal death of their dear friend was the final straw for the Something Troupe; the miserable inhabitants of Meteor City did not officially exist on paper, making them easy targets for heinous people with macabre interests — long before Sarasa, other children there faced a similar fate — and they couldn't simply accept anymore that their lives didn't matter to the world, that they would never have justice in their lives. All that amateur troupe wanted was to have fun dubbing episodes of Power Cleaners and cheer up other children as wretched as them, but as long as they lived in a place as vulnerable as Meteor City, they would never truly have peace or security.

Pakunoda wanted to remember all of this so that there would be no doubt about what she should do next, so that she would never forget her motivations, why she and Chrollo decided to follow such a dark path: to never again let the inhabitants of Meteor City, human beings with dreams and full of life, be treated like mere punching bags by outsiders. They would be villains who would terrorize the world, damning their own souls so they could protect their bonds thinner than water, and yet thicker than blood.

“You look so tall!” commented Paku, laughing, astonished. When they were kids, Chrollo was easily one of the smallest kids in the Troupe, but now he was almost as tall as her. “And your voice, you sound so mature now—”

“And you've become even more beautiful,” Chrollo said affectionately, a slight blush covering his cheeks.

Paku didn't know how to react for a moment, feeling her cheeks burning. When she first saw Chrollo that evening, she thought not only about how much he had grown, but also how handsome he had become, and her beating heart was taken by surprise by the boy's sweet sincerity.

“You know, you too,” she laughed, shaking her head in amusement, which caused her bangs to slide slightly to the right.

Chrollo was very close to her now. When he raised his hand to straighten her errant lock of hair, Paku finally registered the closeness between them and, startled, suddenly pulled away, her heart racing. The boy was very surprised by her abrupt reaction, the two looked at each other for a few confusing seconds, as if they were strangers; the cat jumped back to the ground in the meantime.

“I'm sorry,” the young man finally said, seeming to feel guilty, although he himself didn't quite understand what had just happened.

He assumed she didn't want him to touch her, and Chrollo feared he had invaded her privacy without realizing it. He felt naïve. Why had he thought that he and Paku would be as close as before? After all, three years had passed, why had he thought that the feelings they had for each other would be the same as before? Paku had no reason to continue to reciprocate those feelings, especially considering that because of the path Chrollo and his friends decided to take, he could never offer her the life she deserved. And the guilt he felt about it tighten his heart.

“No!” Pakunoda quickly tried to explain herself, nervously. “You didn't do anything wrong, I just forgot to tell you that… you can't touch me. And I can't touch you either.”

Chrollo looked surprised and intrigued, but stayed silent so she could continue her explanation.

“Three years ago, when we all swore to offer our lives and follow you on this mission, we also decided that we would find ways to become stronger,” Paku told him “While you were away on your training journey, we were also training.”

“So all of you can also use Nen now?” asked Chrollo, unable to help but feel proud of his friends.

“Yes,” she nodded “I am a Specialist, I trained with Renko-san. My ability allows me to 'read' people's minds from physical contact, in particular their memories.”

“If you are a Specialist, then your ability must have restrictions,” said Chrollo, starting to understand everything.

“I swore on my Nen that I would never read your memories,” Pakunoda finally revealed.

There was much unsaid in the silence that followed. In truth, Paku's restriction was about never touching the person she loved most, but admitting the last part out loud was very difficult. Chrollo deduced, partially correctly, that she had decided never to read his memoirs out of respect of his wish that no one else would know what was written in the terrible letter left by Sarasa's killers. That was true, but Pakunoda's decision was also related to her fear of her own feelings; the life they swore to follow offered no room for love, especially for the one who would be their leader. At least, that's what she believed.

“It's okay,” Chrollo smiled gently at her. “Thanks for everything.”

Paku raised her head, looking directly into the boy's obsidian eyes. She forced herself to smile too. In the end, they concluded, the most important thing was that they would always be by each other's side. They both thought about the last time they touched: during Sarasa's funeral, Chrollo and Paku held hands as they watched the small coffin being buried.

They didn't need to speak out loud what they thought so that the other could understand. Something about their relationship that they both always appreciated was the fact that they understood each other so well, practically like soulmates. Paku feared the increasing emotional distance between them that would inevitably occur, but was aware that it was all for the greater good. She tried to avoid thinking about the idea that she had somehow given up on understanding the person she loved.

“Chrollo, you son of a bitch! You finally came back and you didn't even come looking for us?” a thunderous cheerful voice that suddenly interrupted them made the ground shake.

Uvogin had always been a tall guy, but now he was over two meters tall. He and Chrollo shook hands, though the younger one ended up being lifted off the ground in the process.

“Don't be like that, Uvo. I was looking for you guys, but it just happened that Paku was the first one I found,” Chrollo explained calmly, amused.

Pakunoda and Chrollo exchanged glances. She wasn't sure if he had actually found her first “accidentally,” but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they were finally reunited.

Behind Uvogin walked Machi, Shalnark, and Feitan, but there were still other members to appear at the first meeting of the Phantom Troupe. Chrollo knew that from that day on, they would be The Spiders, they would be the most terrifying criminal group in the world, and there was still much work and sacrifices to be made — and, having assumed the role of leader, he needed to focus on their mission.

“Everything will be fine,” Chrollo and Paku thought, hiding their anguish and insecurities.

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS アニメ公式ノベライズ Official Novelization ☽ Chapter 2 Translation

[Previous chapter] ☽ [Next chapter]

Originally written by Yukuzuki Hiroha 結来月ひろは Translated from the Japanese by @otomehonyaku

STORY Following her father’s job transfer, Komori Yui is sent to live with the Sakamaki brothers. However, these six brothers turn out to be sadistic, ill-tempered vampires. The men are after Yui’s sweet and incredibly rare blood, and go to great lengths toying with her body and soul to get it. Before long, Yui finds herself trapped in an alluringly dangerous love game(1)...

1. 吸血愛戯 (ラブゲーム): Stylised as ‘love game’ but written with the characters for bloodsucking (吸血), love (愛), and play (戯). The latter character also has a connotation of playfulness/mischief.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

DISCLAIMER This is an unofficial translation intended for those interested in reading the story of the Diabolik Lovers game/season in a slightly more literary format in English. I have no affiliation with Rejet or Frontier Works whatsoever. All rights belong to them, but PLEASE DO NOT POST THIS TRANSLATION ELSEWHERE OR TRANSLATE TO OTHER LANGUAGES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

Now that that’s out of the way—have fun reading! ❤️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Episode 2

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The evening sun cast a warm glow on the mansion. By the time the chandelier was lit, Yui was sitting on a bed in an unfamiliar room. 

Where am I?

Yui sat upright and looked around. In the corner of the room was the suitcase she had brought to the mansion, as well as her bag. The room was gorgeous with its pink tones and large bed with a lavender-coloured canopy that most girls her age could only dream of. However, Yui wondered why she had been sleeping in this room. 

I arrived at the mansion, and then…

Yui gasped. Right. I found out that they are vampires, that’s why. Remembering the moments leading up to her losing consciousness, she inattentively pressed her fingers to her neck. 

“Thank God, I wasn’t bitten.” Feeling reassured, Yui lowered her fingers to her chest, but suddenly noticed something. “Huh?”

She wasn’t wearing her own clothes, but instead wore a négligé that she had never seen before. 

“Did I change clothes earlier?”

However, Yui had no memory of doing so. In fact, she didn’t remember anything after Ayato pushed her to the floor and she lost consciousness. That meant a stranger had undressed her while she wasn’t conscious. 

“Why am I here? I want to talk to my father…”

Yui wrapped her arms around herself, a thought ran through her mind.

The fact that she is not my own child bears no meaning at all. 

That was what her father’s diary had said when she found it in the forbidden room. I’m not my father’s biological daughter after all… Still, she wasn’t quite sure if she really believed that. She didn’t want to.

“Dad… What’s going on? Please come back home…” Tears started welling up in the corners of her eyes when she remembered the days she’d spent with her father, but the moment was cut short.

“Oh, Bitchlet. It’s no use crying, y’know?”

Yui yelped in surprise. 

When she looked up, Laito was sitting there on her bed, watching her intently. 

“You look hot in your little négligé,” he said, “and you smell delicious, too.” 

Painfully reminded of her current lack of clothing, Yui scrambled for the bed sheets and used them to cover up her chest. Still, the smirk that had been on Laito’s face the entire time grew deeper.

“I wonder if you’re trying to seduce me, little bitch.”

“Why would I…” Yui made an effort to get away from Laito, but soon felt the headboard press into her back, and she knew she had nowhere to run. Oh no… If I don’t do something, he’ll…

The boy was only a hair’s breadth away from her face when he abruptly disappeared from her line of vision, along with the sound of an impact.

“Don’t go touchin’ my things without permission.”

Ayato was the one who had sent his brother flying. 

Laito repositioned his hat onto his head and looked at him. “Ayato, you’re too rowdy.”

“Shut up.”

Has Ayato come to my rescue? If he hadn’t come in, Laito would surely have bitten me. But why would he help me? Even though Yui had not said anything aloud, Ayato called out her wishful thinking immediately.

“I’ll have her.”

So he didn’t come to save me… he was only acting because he didn’t want me swiped away from under his nose.

“Please, don’t!”

“You three. If you do not hurry, we will all be late.” In the blink of an eye, Reiji had also appeared by the side of the bed.

“Again, Reiji?”

“Aw, man, things were just getting good…”

Ignoring Ayato’s and Laito’s complaints, Reiji turned to Yui. “You too. Hurry up and get dressed.”

Yui was glad that the second son had saved her from getting bitten once again, but grew suspicious at his words. “Get dressed? Are we going somewhere?”

“Of course. We’re going to class.”

“Class… at this hour?”

“Please, Yui. Your dull-wittedness is astounding. Do you really not understand anything until I spell it out for you? We attend night classes.”

Yui cast a glance upon the clock at her bedside, and the hands pointed to 5:20 PM. Had she not been here, her classes would have already ended at this time.

“But… we still have an entire day of classes ahead?” Having attended a regular school until now, Yui could not hide her confusion.

“Contrary to what is normal to humans, going out during the day is bothersome for us. As you will be living in the Sakamaki household from now on, we expect you to conform to our lifestyle.”

“But…”

“If you have any complaints, you are welcome to leave at any time,” Reiji said. He then turned to walk away..

“But you said you’d kill me if I ran…” The complaint slipped past Yui’s lips in a voice that was too quiet for Reiji to understand.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing.” Yui shook her head vigorously.

“Then please hurry and put on your uniform.”

When she followed Reiji’s gaze, she saw that a brand new uniform had suddenly appeared on her bed. It consisted of the same blazer that the brothers wore, and a skirt that had white frills attached to the hem. The white shirt ribbon that came with it was tied together with another red ribbon on the centre of the chest. Did they go through all that trouble to get me a school uniform?

“Um…” When Yui raised her face, the three brothers had disappeared from her bedside. And now they’re gone. They really are vampires… 

Alone once again, she sighed heavily. When she tried to get up from the bed, her hand grazed past her rosary.

“Right…” Yui tightly gripped her rosary. “This might be the time to look for the room where I found that diary.” The brothers would be gone, and she would have the room to herself. This chance might not present itself again. 

Yui went to the door and eased it open the tiniest bit in order to check her surroundings. Good. Nobody’s outside my room. Ready to seize the opportunity, Yui prepared to leave the room.

“Yo.”

“Huh?” Somehow, Ayato was standing right in front of her. 

No way. There was nobody here. 

He looked at her scantily-clothed form with an amused grin on his face. “You’re still wearing that? C’mon, I’ll help you change.”

“I’m fine, thank you!” 

Yui shut the door in his face and sighed again. 

Not a chance after all… because I’m not dealing with humans, but with vampires. I should keep my head down for now.

Having given up the idea of going to the forbidden room today, Yui reluctantly got ready to head to class.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Yui finished getting ready and descended to the ground floor, a large black limousine was waiting in front of the mansion. Are we… going to school by limousine?

She hesitated for a second, but the driver opened the door for her. 

Well, I guess I have no choice, then.

“Thank you,” Yui said to the driver before she climbed into the limousine, but he kept silent as he shut the door.

The limousine was spacious enough to fit all of the brothers, and Yui was the last one to arrive. When she sat down on a seat near the door, the limousine quietly departed from the mansion. 

The brothers didn’t talk to one another. The only sound that could be heard was the car’s engine, and the lack of conversation was in stark contrast with their behaviour yesterday. 

Yui looked at the brothers. They couldn’t have been more different from each other—they each had their distinctive hair and eye colour. Are they really brothers?

Reiji was reading a book, and Subaru was sitting next to him, staring out the window with a sullen look on his face. Maybe they just don’t get along. On the opposite side, Laito’s face lit up like he was scheming, Kanato was talking to Teddy, and Shuu was listening to music with his earphones in. 

They really aren’t talking.

“What’re you thinking about, Pancake?” 

Yui had been lost in thought until she was surprised to see Ayato coming towards her, and she instinctively held out her hands to avoid him. The vampire didn’t seem pleased by that. 

Taking advantage of sitting right next to her, Ayato moved in closer. “You got some nerve trying to disobey me, Pancake.”

“All this time, it’s been ‘Pancake,’ ‘Pancake’… I have a name, you know. It’s Komori Yui. Please use it properly.”

“Shut up. Names lost their meaning to me about a hundred years ago, Pancake,” Ayato retorted, drawing out the syllables. Obviously offended, he suddenly bent over Yui, his mouth going for her neck. 

SNAP!

The sound of Reiji’s book slamming shut broke the tense atmosphere.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Ayato? Take such behaviour to your own room.”

Grumbling, Ayato let go of Yui.

Thank God…

“And you. Take this.”

“Huh?”

Reiji held out a juice box for her. “It’s pure cranberry juice. It works best against anaemia.”

“T-thank you,” Yui said in earnest, feeling a little surprised at Reiji’s sudden kindness. 

“No need to thank me,” he responded, sending her a cold glare. “You will have to learn that you are simply our prey, and drink that every day.”

Their… prey? Yui’s hands trembled. She had known it deep down already, but still, Reiji’s cold words struck a chord. Her body was seized by fear. Soon, she was shaking.

“You know, Teddy? When humans are scared, their teeth start ‘chattering.’ Interesting, isn’t it? Let’s observe closely.” Kanato held out Teddy toward Yui.

To these men, all I am is prey. 

The one eye Teddy had that wasn’t covered by an eye patch gleamed at Yui.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

With her lips forming a tight line and her body absolutely rigid, Yui sat in the limousine for another while until it passed under the moonlit gate of Reitei Academy. So this is the night school they were talking about… This was her first time to attend a night school, but Reitei, with its courtyard bathed in moonlight, looked to be a particularly prestigious one.

Yui trailed behind the brothers after they’d gotten out of the limousine and followed them into the courtyard. It was bright and enormous, and the staff had done a good job keeping it tidy.

That’s good. Even though they teach classes at night, it still seems to be a normal school. Yui had felt a little uneasy when she was told to go to the school the brothers went to, but most of the students somehow seemed to be normal humans just like her.

The moment the Sakamakis entered the school’s courtyard, all students stopped and stared. 

Well, if you count out the fact that they’re vampires, they certainly are handsome… When Yui looked at them properly once again, their outward appearance was very well-put together. It certainly wasn’t strange for them to attract attention looking this good.

However, nobody tried talking to them.

Even when they passed through the hallways and a group of female students looked over while chatting with one another in a low voice, they fell silent when Yui returned their gaze. When Yui averted her eyes again, the girls hurriedly moved past them.

What was that for? She turned around and looked at the girls’ backs as they walked away, thinking it strange. Reiji stopped in front of the staircase and called out, pulling Yui out of her daze.

“You are in the same class as Ayato and Kanato, so please go with the two of them.”

“Okay.”

In all earnest, Yui had been looking forward to some time away from the brothers, but she had no choice. She did as she was told, but Reiji’s cold voice stopped her before she could leave with Ayato and Kanato.

”I am not done talking yet.”

Yui reluctantly faced him again.

“If you do not wish to be struck with a whip, I would advise you to not do anything reckless. Understood?”

Meaning that if I tried to run away…

Reiji’s unrelenting gaze gave Yui the chills.

“Answer me.”

“…Yes.”

Feeling Reiji’s ice-like stare on her back, she walked away and headed to the classroom.

This should be it.

When Yui went into the classroom, Kanato was sitting at the very back, a book open in front of him as he cradled Teddy in his arms. Ayato was slumped over on his desk. For some reason, they were the only students there.

But class is just about to start. Why isn’t anyone else here?

Yui considered asking Kanato, but seeing him talk so animatedly to Teddy made her close her mouth again. She quickly glanced at the blackboard. It said Today’s Home Economics class is cooking practice. Please assemble in the school kitchen.

“So we’re doing a cooking class today.” That’s why the classroom was empty—everyone else must have already gone to the kitchen.

We should get going, too. I can’t be late on my first day here. But where is this kitchen?

“…Cooking practice?”

Yui’s voice roused Ayato from his nap, and his face twisted into a suggestive grin. “Hey, Pancake.”

“Ayato, please don’t call me weird names at school.”

“Shut up. You’re better off worrying about where to find the school kitchen.”

As if he had read Yui’s mind, she fell silent.

“Yours Truly could do you a favour and take you there.”

“Really?”

”Yeah. C’mon.” Ayato grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the classroom.

“Ah, wait!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“…Um, Ayato?”

“What?”

“Where are we?”

The room Ayato had dragged her to was filled with cooking utensils and supplies. However, there were no other students in sight.

“It’s the school kitchen.”

“Then why is nobody here?”

“‘Cause this is the old kitchen. They teach the cooking classes in the new one.”

In other words, Ayato tricked her into coming here.

“So why did you bring me here?”

“As for the reason…” Ayato stood up from the chair he’d been sitting on, and stalked towards Yui.

Oh no, not again… Yesterday’s events were still etched into the back of her mind, making Yui freeze in place, but the answer coming out of Ayato’s mouth surprised her.

“Make me some takoyaki.”

“T-takoyaki?”

…Like, actual takoyaki?

“Well, I don’t expect anything but the world’s best takoyaki.”

A takoyaki pan was already present on the table, making Yui realise the height of his expectations. So that’s why he brought me here? She wasn’t sure if this was the actual reason why, but this wasn’t the time to think about that.

”But… we should head to class, quickly.”

“Don’t talk back to me. Yours Truly will eat your takoyaki. Now get cooking!”

“You could at least ask nicely…”

“You say something?” Ayato clearly wasn’t intending to go back to class. 

Yui did as he said, and started the preparations to make takoyaki. Fortunately, most of the ingredients were already there, and Yui somehow managed to make takoyaki with them.

“Here you go.”

Ayato stuffed the takoyaki into his mouth without hesitation. “So good!” 

Next to an innocently grinning Ayato, who feasted happily on the takoyaki, sat a rather dreary-looking Yui. “It’s only my first day of school and I’ve already skipped a class…”

Yui had never expected it to come to this on her first day after transferring to Reitei. She had never skipped a class before, even at her old school. 

“No use worrying ‘bout such small things. Have a bite.”

Before Yui could answer, Ayato pushed a ball of takoyaki into her mouth. “It’s delicious!” 

“Right?”

For something she had made herself, it had turned out pretty well. As the two sat and enjoyed the takoyaki, Yui caught a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall. 

Their next class was about to start.

“We need to clean up. I don’t want to miss our next class too.” Yui began carrying the cooking utensils she used to make takoyaki to the sink. To avoid her getting wet, she took off her blazer, and hurriedly began washing a bowl. She had not realised there would be so much washing-up to do. 

Ayato, satisfied with a belly full of takoyaki, stretched out his legs and reclined in his chair, watching Yui as she did the dishes.

“Give me a hand, Ayato. You were the one who wanted me to make takoyaki, right?”

Silently, the vampire got up from his chair and crept over to her. He stopped just at her back. Yet Yui had not heard him coming over the sound of the running water, and so she called out to him again.

“Hey, Aya—”

When Yui looked over her shoulder, Ayato was right there. He was looking down on her quite literally, and as soon as she saw the look in his eyes, she immediately squirmed away from him.

“What’re you running away for?” He stalked over Yui, who was now standing by the window. “I’ve been going crazy since yesterday. I don’t wanna hold off any longer.”

I have to run…

Ayato captured her in his arms with ease.

“Let me taste you.”

“Please, don’t…” 

The words did not reach him. Ayato grabbed her chin and turned her face to the side, exposing the nape of her neck.

“No bite marks at all. Your skin looks delicious, really.”

Taking in the sight of her slender, pale neck right in front of him, a satisfied smile played at Ayato’s lips.

“Yours Truly will be the one to take all your firsts.”

The next moment, Ayato’s teeth hovered above the skin of her throat. A predatory gleam clouded his eyes before he buried his fangs deep in her neck. 

Yui gasped. The pain of Ayato’s sharp teeth piercing her neck and the feeling of her blood flowing freely into Ayato’s mouth made her body tremble. Even if Yui wanted to run from him, he had a strong grip on both her jaw and her waist. 

“Fuck… what is this? I’ve never tasted blood this sweet before.” Ayato briefly pulled away from her neck, his eyes twinkling with delight. “I like you.”

Before long, Ayato’s fangs brutally punctured Yui’s skin a second time.

“Please…”

Yui was not sure whether it was because he was sucking her blood, but her head began to grow numb, as if she was not herself anymore. 

I’m… scared… If he keeps feeding on me, I'll truly become their prey… I’m so scared.

Yui gathered all her strength to push Ayato away from her. However, the force of her push made the skin tear where Ayato had punctured it with his fangs. The intense pain shooting through her neck knocked the breath out of her, and her face contorted in agony.

“Idiot. If you move around while I bite you, you’ll only make it hurt more, you know.” When Ayato looked up, his lips were stained a bright red when they pulled away from his teeth in a smile.

“Ah…”

His lips were stained the colour of Yui’s blood.

I’ve really been fed on.

With the pain and shock of having her blood sucked, the fear showed plainly on her face.

“Seeing you in tears with your face twisting in pain… It’s too tempting.” Ayato wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, and then licked it off before reaching out to Yui again. 

“Please, stop…”

“No stopping now.”

Ayato pushed her up against the window and bit down on the nape of her neck again.

The moonlight illuminated the two of them through the window, contrasting with the dark room behind them. The moon above Yui was the last thing she saw before her consciousness fell into a deep darkness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You two are an embarrassment to do such a thing on school premises.”

Before long, Reiji was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on Ayato and Yui. Ayato clicked his tongue as he turned around to face his brother.

“Damn it! Shit was just getting good.”

“Look at the state of her. That is your fault, Ayato. Take responsibility for your actions and take her home.”

When Ayato glanced at Yui, who was still in his arms, he noticed that she had already passed out. Might’ve been a bit too rough. The colour of Yui’s face was past the point of flattery, and she did not look like she would be waking up anytime soon. At the same time, Ayato could not simply leave her there. He knew exactly how Reiji would react if he did, and he wasn’t looking forward to that.

“Hmph.”

Ayato swept Yui up into his arms, and the next instant, they had disappeared from the room completely.

“Good grief. If only they could just behave.” Reiji let out a heavy sigh and walked out of the room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Ugh…”

Yui opened her eyes on a bench next to the indoor pool inside the mansion.

Why am I here? I thought I was at school…

“Yo, you’re awake.”

Ayato was sitting on the armrest, lazily playing around with the uniform ribbon that had somehow found its way from neck into his hands.

Right, he fed on me…

Yui tried sitting upright, but the loss of blood had also drained the strength from her body. Seeing her struggle, Ayato walked over to her. 

“S-stay away!” 

Ayato halted.

The fact that vampires needed human blood for nourishment, Yui knew. But Ayato, on the other hand, only seemed to be toying with her. 

“Why are you doing this?” Yui asked.

Ayato stood over her, staring at her coldly. “You still don’t get it?”

“Huh?”

In a flash, Yui’s body was raised in the air, and Ayato’s face was a hair’s breadth away from hers. He’d picked her up with ease and began walking. Yui struggled to have Ayato put her back down, but he leisurely strode over towards the pool. He came to a stop right by the edge of the water.

“Yours Truly is the one who controls you. Stop complaining about everything!” 

Ayato had barely finished speaking before he threw Yui into the water. 

Yui screamed. A loud splashing sound echoed off the walls of the indoor pool. 

Oh no, I can’t swim…

To make matters worse, Yui was still wearing her uniform, and it weighed her down even more as it absorbed the water. She tried to wrestle herself to the surface, but despite her desperate efforts, she still felt herself sinking towards the bottom of the deep pool.

Ayato watched her struggle from the poolside.

“Tell me that I’m the best. Tell me that I’m better than anyone else, and that you’re mine.”

In a stroke of luck, Yui managed to come up for air. She begged for Ayato to help her, but she kept getting pulled back down. 

“Ayato—I can’t—I can’t swim…”

Yui desperately screamed Ayato’s name, but she had already disappeared under the surface of the water. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Whether he had heard her or not, Ayato's expression remained unchanged as he stared down at the water. This is Pancake’s fault. She disobeyed me…

Memories from his childhood haunted Ayato as he watched Yui’s struggling form in the pool.

In his thoughts, Ayato travelled to a lake far away, one hand strenuously reaching out of the water, flailing desperately. The blurry shape of a woman seemed to come closer from under the surface of the water. Ayato fought his way up, and reached out a hand towards her.

However, the woman had not come to save Ayato from drowning. She merely looked on, her expression flat.

Help me…

Ayato’s face twisted in despair knowing that his words would not reach anyone, but rather disappeared into the lake.

Help me…

Yui’s screams for help lined up with Ayato’s distant memory and without giving it any more thought, Ayato launched himself into the water. He did not know why he did it. Even though he harboured a sliver of doubt about his own behaviour, he took Yui into his arms under the surface of the pool.

Well, he did tell us not to kill her.

Reminding himself of this fact, Ayato cupped Yui’s face in his hands, and pressed his lips to hers.      

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s warm… and I can breathe again.

When Yui opened her eyes, she realised that Ayato had been transferring air to her with a kiss. Ayato pulled away as soon as he saw that she had regained consciousness. 

Why is he looking at me with such a forlorn expression?

In the deafening silence of the water, Yui saw herself reflected in his eyes, which were clouded with sadness.

Don’t look at me like that, Yui wanted to say, but the air Ayato had given her became bubbles under the water. 

I can’t breathe…

Seeing the struggle on Yui’s face again, Ayato undid the top buttons of her blouse to expose her shoulder, and sank his fangs into her skin.

“Nnh!”

Bubbles rose to the surface of the water again when Yui cried out. When Ayato switched to a different spot, biting her again and again, the blood seeping from the wounds in Yui’s skin floated around the two of them like a red ribbon that bound them together.

I have no air left…

Just when Yui was about to lose consciousness again, Ayato held on tight and pulled her with him to the surface. Yui coughed heavily to clear her lungs of water and desperately fill them with air at the same time. Ayato’s head was now above the water as well, and his eyes gleamed with a bewitching ferality that she had never seen of him before.

“Fuck, I can feel your blood flowing through my body… I can feel its power…”

“Please, no more…” Yui begged in a soft voice. Her face was white as a sheet, and the cold water and Ayato’s feeding had left her trembling incessantly.

“It can’t be helped. Let’s call it here for today.” Ayato held on to Yui as he swam to the edge of the pool, and hoisted her upwards onto the tiles.

Feeling an intense relief at being on solid ground again, Yui fell to the floor. Ayato threw a towel over her head.

“Huh?”

Yui was surprised by Ayato’s small gesture, but before she could thank him, Ayato turned his back on her and walked away without saying anything.

What does he really want with me?

Unable to figure out his motive, Yui tightly gripped the towel.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Around the same time, a man in a long, dark coat appeared in the woods surrounding the mansion. His motives seemed unclear窶派e merely stood there. However, as if he had noticed something, his head suddenly snapped up, and his red eyes focused on the sight in front of him.

Ah… Brings back memories.

The man’s eyes were trained on the Sakamaki mansion.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yui had used the shower room adjacent to the pool, and when she returned to her room, she was stopped by the faint sound of a door unlocking once again. With suspicion, she followed the source of the sound, and reached another dilapidated spiral staircase.

“This staircase should lead to that room…”

Since then, Reiji had forbidden her from entering, but Yui was not prepared to give up on finding her father’s diary. I might be able to sneak into the room unnoticed from here, Yui thought as she ascended the stairs and found, as expected, the forbidden room.

Yui entered quietly, and immediately began the search for her father’s diary. It should have been right around here…

Carefully tiptoeing around the shards of broken glass, Yui eventually found the diary among the books on the floor.

“Gotcha!” She opened the little notebook without delay. “Huh…What’s this?”

Yui’s eyes widened in surprise. Her hands trembled as she flipped the pages. 

The pages were all completely blank where her father’s handwriting had been.

“It’s all… gone…” So what on Earth did I see before?

In a daze, the notebook slipped out of Yui’s hands and fell onto the floor, the sound reverberating through the quiet, empty space.

[ckret2]

this is a little bit of a bizarre question but the way you manage to “flesh out” characters while keeping them consistent is really remarkable to me!

I’m having a lot of trouble making characters feel less ‘one-dimensional’ (especially female characters…It’s like my mind just draws a blank)

I understand it helps that most of the characters you’re writing have pre established personalities, aesthetics, etc. but I still feel like you manage to make the characters your own in a believable way.

do you have any advice for someone with this issue? if not, just know that I’m really really loving Bill-Goldilocks-Cipher and always look forward to the next chapter!!!

so the first thing you have to do is get deeply deeply obsessed with the story and then you have to go on walks fantasizing feverishly about the characters

But more serious answer:

Advice #1: Just take whatever you already know about the character and dig dig dig dig dig.

Take Wendy. She's the cool girl. Her character concept when she was designed was The Cool Girl. She's such a cool girl that by the end of the series she's symbolically represented by a bag of ice. She also says in one episode that she's NOT laid back, she's stressed all the time, because of her family.

Why is a 24/7 stressed teenager trying to give off an air of being cool and chill? Why did she start? What's she getting out of it? Why does she feel the pressure to maintain that facade? If she's so stressed, what's going on inside her head when she interacts with people? Her friends? Her boss? In one episode, she responds to both a request to hang out at a carnival and a request to start a romantic relationship with "yeah, I guess so." It's so passive. Why's she so passive in her relationships? Especially when she's so outwardly tough and assertive? What's the source of this side of her that just goes along with what other people suggest with seemingly no interest of her own—again, including a ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP? How does this relate to her being the "cool girl"? How does this relate to her deliberate decision to portray herself as "the cool girl"? In one episode she gets a scrape and the FIRST THING she does is forcefully tell Dipper NOT to freak out—why is her priority hastening to reassure the people around her before taking care of herself? She's got three younger brothers—is that how she interacts with them? Is one of them scared of blood? Does she see Dipper like one of her little brothers? Elder sisters often get handed the responsibility to act like mini-moms at young ages—did that happen to Wendy? Her mom is GONE, did that INCREASE the pressure on her? Is that why her family stresses her? What's it like in that house? Being pushed into acting like a mini-mom is a very traditionally feminine role—nurturing—which is at odds with Wendy's kinda soft butch presentation and way of speaking/acting—but is it at odds with Wendy's overall behavior? Following along with what the guys do rather than deciding for herself, passively accepting romantic propositions rather than pursuing someone she actually wants? Is she comfortable in those roles or does she feel pushed into them? Does it grate at her? Does she ever want to act assertive rather than just appear like an assertive person? Why do we never see her "we're WOMEN and we TAKE WHAT WE WANT" side more than once—and is it significant that she only pulls that out when there aren't any guys around? Does being the cool girl—supportive, accepting, nurturing, passive—chafe at her? Why's she do it?

Just keep digging. Overanalyze those tiny character details. Tie them together. Become the "I've connected the two dots" "You didn't connect shit" "I've connected them" meme. You can, will, and must connect the two dots. Treat every character like a mystery to figure out.

But your starting point is always whatever you already know about the character. You're building off of that foundation. You throw NOTHING out the window, buster—EVERY detail is important. You're not just wholesale making shit up—you're extrapolating wildly from whatever you already have. Making shit up always feels unanchored and vague. I said in an ask a few days ago that I headcanon Wendy likes that "stomp clap hey" hipster music genre. I didn't grab that randomly. I grabbed it because when we see her bedroom, she's got a poster with a banjo on it; she's super stoked to go to the Woodstick festival, and when she shows some of the featured indie bands to Dipper she focuses on two of the hipsteriest-sounding ("Scarves Indoors," "Wood Grain on Everything") and the apparent headlining band is the Handlebar Bros (just look at them); and she desperately wants to move to Portland, which in 2012 was the hipster capitol of North America—that's the culture she wants to escape to. No making shit up!! BUILD OFF WHAT YOU HAVE.

And Advice #2: you're telling a story, here. You have a plotline. Shape your characters to serve the story you're telling. What kind of a story are you telling? I'm telling a story about the destructive consequences of being a "special" kid—gifted kids, child celebrities, pageant kids, kids pushed to fill adult roles too young—the perfectionism, the burnout, the fear that anything short of excellence is insufficiency, the need for external validation, seeking love through fame rather than intimacy. When I'm looking at shallow characters and seeing how to fit them into the story, I'm prodding at them to see whether anything we know about them holds the potential to comment on themes like that—and then, if they do, that gives me an direction to dig in that already personally fascinates me, because it helps me weave this character into the story I already want to tell. If a character doesn't inherently carry any of those themes—then what can I do with the contrast between this character and the others?

And then, sometimes, I'm telling a story about two guys getting hunted down by a tooth fairy that desperately wants to steal one's teeth and a dentist that's willing to do anything she says but not motivated to furiously avenge her when she's defeated. Now I've got to make up two characters completely from scratch, BUT I don't have to make them up aimlessly. I already know the exact shapes they need to be fill their assigned positions in the story—I know what they need to do to make the story work—and now I can build them from the edges in, to make them the kinds of people they need to be to perform the actions I want to serve the plot they're in. And from there I can build them just like any character—I take the things they need to be, the things I already know about them (the dentist obeys the fairy but doesn't want to avenge her) and I dig dig dig (why would he not want to avenge her if he's so obedient? Does he obey her out of obligation but not true loyalty? Why? What kind of a person does this make him?)

And the tl;dr of all of that advice is:

so the first thing you have to do is get deeply deeply obsessed with the story and then you have to go on walks fantasizing feverishly about the characters